Obverse An Avengers Fic
by Endira
Summary: SHIELD doesn't have all of the answers- time to get them. Not curious? You should be. Combination of: Movies, comics, mythology, my own ideas May you enjoy, because this is written for you. Eventual Loki x OC. Reviews are love, no matter whether they are negative or positive and are always very appreciated.
1. Prologue

A violet smoke reflected on the walls of a metal cell— its source shedding light on the faces peering through the translucent fumes at the prison's center.

"Loki, my vision will come easier if you do not look through the scrying smoke." A woman with long, tawny hair and green eyes spoke. She adjusted her yellow dress quickly before sneaking a glance at him. Across from her sat the Jotun prince, bound and gagged with silver metal. His dark hair was gelled back and his attire was of a wealthy Asgardian make— proud with tasteful black and green adornments. His brows were currently furrowed and his eyes were downcast, focusing on the shackles that were beginning to chafe his wrists.

"There's a good boy." Her teasing was met with an annoyed grunt. Smiling, she looked back to the rising violet magic. "Now think of a question and hold it in your mind."

Her name was Sigyn. She was a woman of the Vanir living amongst the dominant Aesir— a sort of means of peacekeeping between the two groups. She had obviously not spoken to Loki for quite some time due to his chaotic escapades, but today she came to his cell because she felt his essence calling out to her. Sensing his intentions, she mentally prepared herself to scry and made her way inconspicuously towards the Asgardian prison. She was too careful to get caught. She wouldn't care even if she had because she would do anything for the man sitting across from her now.

Colors other than violet began to show through as Sigyn's thoughts became more focused, forming pictures and shifting through them quickly.

_A maiden sat in an abysmal apartment, staring into blank space. Her auburn hair was extremely untidy and her blue eyes had dark circles hanging like drapes underneath of them. She was clutching a dark shape to her chest. All of the sudden, she jumped up as if surprised and quickly climbed out of her dwelling's window._

_The apartment had a yellow sheen to it due to the light emanating from a strange vase with what looked like a funneling fan. Loki was inside of the young girl's dwelling. She was handing him a small cup while he rested on a small cot. He smiled weakly and attempted to take it, but his arms failed him. _

Sigyn felt a flare of envy at the sight, threatening to overwhelm her and make her lash out at the image, but that would mean having to explain to the prince as to why she had to start the spell over again. She would truly not tell him that a young girl angered her. Him being known as the Liesmith— the Lord of Lies, she assumed that it would not go well in spite of his restraints.

_The light was gone, leaving the apartment draped in darkness. Loki was pinning the maiden against a wall. She had a perfectly calm expression, matching Loki's oddly similar one. He released the girl, letting her fall to the floor and placed his hand on her forehead._

_A large, Midgardian crowd was surrounding a lone man elevated above them behind a podium. Beyond him was a banner with the words: Down With Mutants! Support Stryker! Many of those gathered seemed to be cheering, but there were some among them with worried or hateful expressions. Loki stood at the far back, observing with a mild upturn of the corners of his mouth and a raised eyebrow._

_Loki was laughing in a glorious fashion atop of a fierce-looking statue until a shield knocked him from his perch. A flash of red and gold caught him as he was falling. The prince was then dropped at a lower height into the hands of a well-muscled green monster. Even though he had been caught and more foes seemed to appear, his grin did not falter… until he saw his brother ushering over the lass with red hair and another young woman with light blonde hair and blue eyes. _

Sigyn tried to get a better look at the new figure, but the colors shifted too quickly into a new image.

_Loki was in a cell; however, he easily slipped out._ He was still on Midgard as far as Sigyn could tell. _He was dancing with the irritating maiden next to a crowded, brightly lit room: an amused grin occupied his face. _Once again, Sigyn felt the need to harness the manifestation of her jealousy and kill the Midgardian. _They spoke while waltzing until the young girl's eyes widened and she pushed him away._

Then the images began to shift rapidly. She tried to focus on them, but they were changing too swiftly for her to process. The information she had failed to grasp was too far into the future and too uncertain for her capabilities to reveal. The violet smoke retreated into the light formed in the palms of Sigyn's hands as she recalled her magic. She could feel Loki's gaze on her, but she refused to look up at him until the thoughts swarming in her mind came to a halt.

_The red-haired one appears too much to be unimportant. Who is she? Why is so much of the future uncertain? Why couldn't I hold the images that I did see for long? Why was I not in his future? He knows I would follow him to the gates of Hel until Ragnorak come._

Sigyn shook her head and moved closer to Loki, reaching towards his gag. He looked upon her with a curious stare as she unceremoniously worked at detaching it, her face red with the close contact. When the piece of metal was removed, Loki gasped and began working his jaw to make up for its lack of usage.

Marveling at the fallen prince, Sigyn sat down. She placed the gag on her lap and let her thoughts run loose again. Myth suggested that the two were married, but that was because of the Vanir woman's interference in Midgardian affairs with the hope of pushing Loki in the direction of her longing arms. He did not welcome her affections—only staying close enough away to be considered somewhat of a friend. Despite his rejections, Sigyn still felt for the prince and—

"gyn. Sigyn?"

She jumped at the realization that Loki had been calling her name. He was looking at her with one eyebrow slightly raised and his head leaning slightly.

"M-my prince, I apologize." She murmured while bowing her head. She didn't see Loki cringe at the word "prince."

"My Lady, if you please, I wish to know the content of what you have seen."

"Yes, of course. If you wish for me to accurately make sense of it, my prince, I must inquire as to what your question was."

"Will I be too weak to survive my flight from Asgard?"

It was an unbelievably simple question. Sigyn felt her brows furrow as her heart suddenly started to hurt with each beat.

_He has doubts? Then it is no wonder my visions were fleeting. He just wanted to see if he could leave. Surely Liesmith must know that he is more than capable?_

"You shall survive."

"But you saw more." It wasn't a question. It was a statement that flew around Sigyn's head, reminding of her previous confusion. She was silent, taking in his serious expression and relaxed composure. She knew from his question that she wasn't going to be seeing him for much longer. When she decided to speak, she did so slowly.

"Yes."

"What else did you see?"

"My prince, I'm not so sure—"

"Cease addressing me as prince!" Loki shouted as he completely lost his composure and lunged at Sigyn, as if to grab her. For the first time, Sigyn did not see the chains that bound him as her enemy. She was horrified as she watched his face warp from soft and calculated to pinch-point fury. "Here I am a frost giant— a Jotun monster! I am not one of you. I am destined for much more than a pathetic title such as "prince." I shall set off to acquire one that is truly worthy of my glory and rule those beneath as I see fit. Now tell me Sigyn," He spat. "What did you see?"

"I saw a young Midgardian maiden with hair as red as your brother's cape. You will be weak from your retreat, but it seems that she takes you in and nurses you. You leave her care when you feel you are well enough. Something about her is strange. She seems… prominent… in your future."

"How so?" He asked impatiently. The rage was gone, replaced with a look of annoyance.

"I am unsure my—" Sigyn paused, catching herself. "…Loki. She appeared in the visions following." He tsk'd and rolled his eyes, having caught her stumble.

"Surely there was more than some girl."

"There was a Midgardian assembly about… mutants?"

"That is the way they refer to half-breed Vanir unaware of their origins. They are feared because their capabilities exceed that of the other Midgardians."

"I… see." Sigyn was starting to feel extreme distaste for Midgard. She brushed aside a sandy blonde lock that had fallen in her face. It would be a fitting place for Loki to demonstrate his leadership capabilities. _Leadership…_

"Loki, there is one last thing for you to remember."

"Yes?"

"Thor and his Midgardian friends will interfere in whatever you have planned."

"That is to be expected, my Lady." Loki replied, his voice dropping lower than it had been, a look of joyful malice occupying his formerly soft features. "Now for another question." Sigyn gasped as his shackles faded away and Loki stepped closer to her, then knelt and brought his face close. "Will you help me, Lady Sigyn?"

"Always." She could barely breathe as he brushed aside the same lock of hair that had fallen back in her face only moments ago.

"Good." Loki grinned as he suddenly stepped away from her.

Sigyn was confused at his sudden retreat, only to become even more so when she found she could not move her arms and legs. She looked down to see that the shackles that were previously adorned around Loki were wrapping themselves around her.

_What is he doing?_

"L-loki?"

"'Always,' you said." The trickster began pacing slowly around her. "Your death shall be a trivial matter to you if you truly mean what you have said— now and in years previous."

Sigyn felt her heart breaking. She knew that Loki was referring to the many times that she had attempted to proclaim her love for him. She looked to his face. There was madness and apathy, yet… loneliness. Her cold prince was still mixed within the psychosis of the man standing before her. With that in mind, she thought over what he was asking her for. Take his place as a more lifelike doppelganger than his clones and die for treasons when she has been found out.

_If I must give up my life for my love to be appeased… then…_

"So mote it be." Sigyn spoke gravely.

"I knew you would say so, one way or another." He began murmuring under his breath and gently waved his hand over Sigyn's imprisoned form. Her sunny dress was replaced with black and green Asgardian armor. She felt no change in her body; however, when she looked to the metal walls of the cell, she saw two Loki's reflected on its silver surface.

"A wonderful trick this will be, will it not?" Loki asked, making his way towards the cell entrance.

"Yes…" Sigyn replied weakly as he opened it. She felt a hot, burning pain in her chest and wet tears stinging in the corners of her eyes, threatening to drip down.

"Farewell Lady Sigyn. I have appreciated your… submission." The Liesmith whispered as the doors closed, leaving the Vanir pawn to her fate. He fought his way towards the bridge, each blast of energy, clone, dagger, and wound opening up a new gateway in his own destiny. After countless guards fell at his hands, Loki finally approached Heimdall at the remains of the Bifrost.

_Time to see where that door takes me._ He thought as he lunged at the guardian.


	2. Ch1 Cain

Ch. 1 Cain

Everyone's special— in their own little way. You have special, like "Man, you're incredible" special and "Oh, that one? He's _special_." Degrading. You know the difference. Titles like that are usually given lightly around Arestown. It's a dinky run-down place in the middle of blazing-hot nowhere with nothing and no one to attract a lot of attention to it. Needless to say, its residents become drunk with interest at the mildest of news.

"Oh my lans- you are the best story teller in the entire place! That's a _special_ talent you got there."

Until I came upon Arestown, I had never had the pleasure of that word and my name being used in the same sentence. No— the only "special"-like adjective used in a sentence with my name before this place was "mutant."

I love it here.

I like that comfortable, post-dream phase you sometimes wake up in. Everything around you is gray and fuzzy: the blankets cocooning you are warm and comforting. My thoughts swim around lazily in the murkiness, contemplating a dream I just had or wondering how long I can get away with hoping that my alarm won't go off because it might be a weekend. That wretched metal contraption always likes to interrupt my blissful reveries.

BZZT.

I groaned and tried to cover my ears with my pillow. I can still hear the awful beeping, but now it feels like I've done something to protect my ears from the alarm's audio assault.

"Shut…up… clock." I whined. After another minute of the cacophony, I sat up and rubbed the back of my head in surrender. Slowly, I rose off of my cot and made my way across the room of my apartment and unplugged the noisy offender. It wasn't next to my bed because the jack was on the opposite wall, and I couldn't afford to buy new batteries for a battery-operated one. The darned alarm clock was always a joy kill—serving as a constant reminder of the people I have to face and my broke young adult-ness. If it didn't help prevent my being late for work, I would have taken a jack hammer to it ages ago.

I relished the silence for a moment, sighing quietly. _And so begins the day._

Sluggishly, I got up from my spot on the carpet and gradually began picking up speed as I moved through my morning routine. All dressed and ready for my job, I walked towards the door of my apartment. There was something sitting in the back of my mind, like I was forgetting something. Turning around, I did a quick scan of the room.

The bleak tan walls were bare and the grubby carpet didn't have much aside from dirty laundry on its rough surface. My cot was untidy in its little corner, my blankets and pillow balled up looking like a wrinkly mountain. The large window that was placed a few inches above my resting sanctuary was closed and locked. Quietly mocking me across from the bed, the alarm sat as it usually does. Further down along the wall rested the stove, counter, and fridge. The lamp on the counter was unplugged. Lastly, the door to the bathroom was closed. I checked to make sure I had my name tag pinned to my work clothes. White plastic with navy blue lettering looked up at me, spelling Mercy Cain. I was in the clear.

Pleased with my mini reconnaissance, I opened the door: Coincidentally, my friend Janna from across the hall opened hers at the same time. I could feel joy and excitement radiating off of her and see its effects on her mocha skin, causing it to glow. Her brown eyes were dancing animatedly and her movements hinted at anticipation… that and her particular outfit for the day. It wasn't skimpy, but it still made me feel uncomfortable. Trying to ignore it, I focused on the beams of happiness radiating from her. I was tempted to absorb some of it, but I resisted the urge.

"Hot date?" I asked as we both headed down the hallway together.

She laughed. "Not yet, but Raoul called and said that he wanted to meet up this afternoon. He sounded nervous over the line." She went silent for a second, trying to contain herself, but found that she couldn't.

"I think he's going to pop the question!"

I giggled a little bit at her enthusiasm. Unlike me, Janna had been very successful in the romance department. She was a good ten years older than me and has been holding on to boys' arms for as long as I've known her. In contrast, I've only ever had two official relationships. She had been dating Raoul for the past four years.

"It's about time." I said, grinning at her as we walked down the stairwell to the first floor. She beamed back at me. "When are you meeting him?"

"About five— he's coming straight here after work."

"Great. I'll be getting back about then too. I can be a witness! A little early getting ready though, aren't we?"

"He's not going to propose to me at my apartment, silly. We'll go somewhere else—and never underestimate time constraints, Ms. Cain! Makeup and the right clothes never hurt anyone as far as I'm aware. Besides, a woman should always strive to look her best." She paused dramatically and briefly struck a pose. "Not everyone is a stunning beauty like me. I'm sure that if you listen to my advice every once in awhile, someone will be getting down on one knee for you in a few years. You've got pretty blue eyes and nice shade of red on your head— I don't know a single man who would turn that down."

I snorted at the idea. "Janna, I don't exactly see the men of the town lining up for a date with me. Besides, you know I'm too lazy for things like relationships and… well, the other stuff."

She shrugged. "Your loss."

By the time we were finished our little exchange, we had made it to the parking lot. Janna patted my shoulder and hugged me goodbye. "Thanks for supporting me through the years. I really do care about him."

"Thanks for accepting me as a person." I replied. She let go of me and smiled.

"Good luck at work today— hope that it doesn't get you too down!" Janna called as we went our separate ways. I shook my head and grinned as I unlocked my car and got in.

Janna was the first person to ever honestly and truly accept me. My parents didn't want me because I was different. I could feel other people's emotion, take them away, project them onto others… My parents were scared of me, the word mutant rolling off of their tongues as they stared. I took the hint by the time I was eight and ran away. Miraculously, no one found me… either that, or my good 'ol folks never cared if I was safe and sound or dead in a ditch— so I began wandering. It was tough being a young vagabond, but after five years of trial and error, I found myself in Arestown at the age of thirteen.

It was on that first day that I met Janna. I was dirty, tired, hungry— a hub of negativity. She brought me to her place and helped me get all fixed up. We bonded over cocoa and crescent rolls, our conversations lasting deep into the heart of the night. Understanding that I had no place to go and insisting that I remain in Arestown, she offered to let me stay in her apartment.

Janna found out about my mutant conditions one day after a close friend betrayed her. I had been in a relatively good mood, so I absorbed her pain, a faint dark blue light entering through my fingertips. In exchange, I fed her my good mood, a soft yellow covering her from the crown of her head to the soles of her feet. It confused her at first— why I was crying and she was feeling alright. I started crying harder at the thought of her casting me out for my abnormality. After I explained what I was, she laughed and said, "That's cool." then proceeded to ask me questions about what else I could do.

My first acceptance

Eventually, it became a little hard for the two of us to live in her apartment, so I got a job and we both began saving money so that I could get my own little living space. In a stroke of luck, the one right across the hall from Janna's became available. It was there that I turned sixteen. It was there that I felt my first heartbreak and coped with the second. I could have pushed my feelings off on someone else, but I felt that doing so was unfair, so I always bear with it. It was in that apartment that I first broke a stove, read a good book, did my first homework, drew a duck, fretted over rent payments, attempted to take care of a mouse, and countless other things in the four years that I had lived in it— and I owed everything I had to Janna.

I shook my head at the sentimentalities flooding my mind as I pulled into my work's parking lot.

Arestown Friendly Convenience.

Time for emotional roller coasters, I thought as I warily looked through the front glass windows and saw a few of my younger counterparts already opening up shop. I steeled myself, preparing for the invisible angsty onslaught, and walked in.

**Author's note: This chapter is just a bit of background info. I'm getting to the fun stuff soon—I promise. I just wanted to have a little bit of character development established beforehand. I also don't want to post agonizingly long chapters. Ch. 2 will be up soon. I apologize if I switch types of perspectives suddenly. It's a bad writing habit that I've been trying to break.**


	3. Ch 2 Surprise!

Ch. 2 Surprise!

I was exhausted from a long day's work by the time I unlocked my car and plopped into the driver's seat. Anger, sadness, and confusion loomed over me as a result of my emotional meddling.

_All angst. _I thought_._

Haley and Lola, my sixteen year old co-workers were all over the place, bashing themselves, laughing randomly, verbally lashing out at customers, being clumsy with the merchandise, doing a one-eighty with their attitudes and suddenly caring—that last bit is thanks to me of course.

_My hair is going to be gray way before Janna's if my life continues on like this._

I perked up at the thought of her and her potential "big moment" that I may or may not witness, the sheer amount of excitement overriding my co-workers' grievances. With a much more positive attitude, I put more vigor into my driving and enjoyed the rest of the drive.

When I made it back to the apartment complex, I looked around the parking lot for Raoul's car. Not seeing it, I ran up to Janna's apartment and knocked. It opened immediately, showing a still beatific Janna. Her face dropped a little when she saw me. Feeling her overwhelming aura, I felt the temptation to steal a bit of it away all over again. I fought against the urge and tried to take my mind off of it by starting a conversation.

"So I take it he hasn't come yet?" I began.

"No, but I would appreciate it if you hide—He's going to be here any minute!"

_Testy-testy._

"Whatever you say boss." I said as I walked across the hall and opened the door to my apartment. After I closed it, I wheeled around to spy on the hallway. Unlike Janna's door, I had a peephole on mine. It was for safety reasons, and it's not like I often spied on people in the hallways. This was an occasion that I was granted permission to witness… sort of… so it should be okay if I watch the whole thing happen and surprise the happy couple when they're finished. I waited a good several minutes before I saw him.

As far as Janna's boyfriends went, Raoul was… exceptional. He could handle Janna's extremely forward personality, was a total gentleman, and was good-looking as far as most of America's standards. I'd give him a six. He had inky black hair that was cropped short and brown eyes that were much darker than Janna's. His were like chocolate whereas hers were closer to amber. Tan skin wrapped around him, compliments of his time spent out in the sun.

He and I didn't talk much— I made sure of that. He's sweet, but I just don't like talking to Janna's boyfriends much. She goes on about him constantly anyway. Her word is good enough for me.

_Something feels wrong though. The way he carries himself makes him look nervous like Janna had suggested he would be, but… I sense sadness and dread hanging over him. Should I—?_

Before I finished my thought, Raoul knocked on Janna's apartment door. Open it swung with Janna standing behind it in all of her anticipating, excited glory. It was a strange sight, viewing it with the circular distortion of my peephole. I pressed my ear against the door, hoping to catch a few words. I felt dread creeping over me like an army of small, spindly spiders when Raoul's muffled baritone voice reached my ears.

"Hello Janna." He started weakly.

"Hello love!" I could practically see her beaming expression as she answered. The two were contrasting each other with their conflicting moods—not that Janna knew that.

"I- Janna. I came here to tell you something- something I realized recently that has to be said." His emotional waves intensified.

"What is it, Raoul? I'll listen."

"W-well, our relationship is great and all, but sometimes I find myself wanting more than what we have— you know?" There was a brief silence. Janna's excitement readings just hit the roof. I wanted to open the door, bang on it, something- anything to prevent what was about to happen, but I couldn't move. The mere thought of what Janna was about to go through immobilized me.

"Yes! I know exactly what you mean!"

Confusion sprouted in Raoul's aura. "You do?"

"Yes of course, but please continue. We're getting a bit ahead of ourselves." This time there was a long, pregnant pause. Raoul seemed to be getting his bearings. The dread and nervousy left him, being replaced by relief. I felt my heart beat quicken.

"Janna… I can no longer continue with this relationship."

"W-wha—?"He cut her off quickly. Joy no longer radiated from the hallway, shock and more confusion taking its place.

"I've been content for an extremely long time—don't get me wrong. This is the best relationship I have ever been in, but I'm not happy anymore. It's not something you can fix. You're a great person— just… not the one for me. I'm letting you go so that you can find someone better suited for you and so that I can do the same. Thank you for being good to me these past few years. Good bye Janna."

I heard footsteps and looked through my peephole quickly. Janna was leaning against the doorway with a zoned- out expression, shock having taken over. Acting swiftly, I rushed to open my door and flung myself at her as the first bubblings of grief formed. I raised my hand, commanding the negative emotions awakening within my friend to come to me. Purple, green, white, and various dark blues formed a wave of faint light and attacked my fingertips, rapidly spreading to the rest of my body.

"Cain—don't!"

It was too late. I fell to the ground, my body suddenly too weak to support my weight. Tears gushed out of my eyes and small cries sprang from my mouth. I always hated this part about taking someone else's feelings upon myself. I was susceptible to them, but I had no reason to be. It was someone else's burden—not mine. Crying was much less satisfying when you couldn't really blame your blues on someone or something else.

"Oh… God!" I choked out. My stomach began to tingle lightly and my throat was beginning to burn. I rather dislike that feeling too. It's not painful so much as tiring—like when you've written an essay or finished an entire drawing of tiny spheres worthy of acquiring carpal tunnel. The entire thing was awful.

"Cain." Janna's calm voice said from above me as she reached to touch my shoulder. I couldn't handle human contact at the moment: It felt like fire. As soon as she touched me, I wrenched away from her scorching touch, rolled into my apartment, and slammed to door shut— sobbing all the while.

"Janna?" Came my friend's muffled concern. I threw myself to my cot and yelled back a reply in the form of stuttering and sobs,

"Go a-away! I ca-can't ta-ake this wi-with someone else here!"

"Are you sure?"

"GO!" I screamed. I grabbed my pillow and began the typical balling line-up.

_Why me? Why is it always me?_

**I asked for it.**

_Why am I a mutant? Why do people have to hate me?_

"_L-lou? Louis, what's wrong?"_

"_I'd really like it if you stayed away from me from now on. I don't want you screwing around with my head anymore. I mean, what's the point of trying to argue with you if you're just going to take away my will to fight?"_

"_I c-can't get into people's heads. I'm not psychic. I can just tell what you're feeling. Lou, just talk to me. We don't have to fight. I don't want you to feel so negative."_

"_I just want what's mine. Please give it back."_

"_Alright…"_

"_You witch! You mutant freak! Why the hell didn't you tell me you were unnatural sooner? So that I could fall into your trap? So that I wouldn't be wasting my time? You magicked me into this. You took away my free will! I have a right to that here in America. You should be burned, hell you should be flayed, drawn and quartered, hell, I've always wanted to try out Chinese water torture! I can't believe you made me fall in love with you."_

"_I DID NOT!"_

"_Oh really? Then why am I here?"_

"_Because I took away your negative emotions. That time Macy ran over your dog? How you picked yourself up after it? That was me. Oh, and when your best friend set your best bat on fire by accident? I saved you from the awful spat you were about to have. Hah—and let's not forget the speech you had to give in front of the class last week. I took away your FEAR, Louis. I took all of your negative emotions unto myself and gave you every ounce of good I ever had. I aided you with your emotional troubles, but know this: I NEVER, EVER fed you love in that way."_

"_So now you're saying that you didn't love me and you're just toying with me?"_

"_NO! Lou, I really lo—… You know what Louis? Eat your heart out."_

**Well, what does being a mutant matter? Janna doesn't hate me.**

_Why did Raoul have to break up with Janna?_

_I couldn't move. Each limb now weighed ten thousand pounds more than what I could lift. I was just a pound of flesh, blindly listening to butchers._

**I heard him say everything.**

_When is life ever going to get better?_

"_Girl, go up to your room."_

"_But mom—"_

"_G-go back up."_

**Janna would play the world's tiniest violin if she could hear my thoughts right now.**

My own subconscious responded to every question, only making things worse. Just when I thought that I had suppressed Janna's grief, I began to sputter out all over again. I had the mental image of an empty watering can being rained on lightly by a storm cloud. After a long period of mild downpour, the watering can was left alone, only to be turned over by the wind. It spilled its contents all over its grassy home, emptying itself out.

Wave upon wave of anguish hit me, causing stinging tears to fall down my face until it felt numb. I could have had a pool going on eventually and would have put chipmunks to shame with my puffy face. Failed pity parties turned into hours—those hours turned into days. No sleep was had and very little food was eaten. Human contact was bare minimal. By the middle of the third day, I felt dry. No more tears would come. No more on and off spurts of crying could be attempted. My mind was blank from exhaustion and everything around me seemed empty. I was simply a shell sitting on my cot.

It was light out at the time, the sun's rays shining through my large window, tainting everything in the room with light and shadows. I looked outside. There was a black section of roof. It suited my mood.

_If only the sky was gray. _I shook my head._ I have to shake this attitude. Maybe I'll go sit on the roof later…_

I felt a tension in my stomach and heard a growl follow shortly afterwards.

_Hungry…_

Clutching my belly, I tried to mentally combat the sensation.

_My stomach hurts._

**Then I need to eat.**

_I'll get sick if I eat._

**The only reason I feel somewhat sick is because I haven't eaten.**

_So I should…?_

**Eat.**

_But I'll—_

**EAT.**

_You suck._

When my mental conflict was resolved, I walked to the mini fridge and peered in at its contents. The ice cream in the freezer was calling, but I refused to give in. I didn't want to deplete the only financial splurge I've had for myself in awhile just yet. The top shelf carried milk a day away from its expiration date, three eggs in a carton, and two apples. Underneath was an unfinished chocolate bar leftover from three nights ago when Janna was in one of her strange moods and wanted to celebrate our un-birthdays. The bottom shelf contained three cups of instant ramen. Not wanting to cook or eat sweets, which are reserved strictly for_ happy_ special occasions, I grabbed one of the apples and munched at it. My subconsciousness was truly a voice of reason. I was feeling a little bit better.

When I was finished with the apple, I threw it out and roamed back to my corner of woe. My alarm clock caught my eye as I sat down. I had forgotten about its existence for the past few days.

_Wow…_ I thought as I pressed my pillow against a bleak wall and leaned into it. _Jenna must have really been shaken up if my alarm gave up before I turned it off_. I then closed my eyes, hoping to catch up on the rest that I had missed. The first soft wisps of sleep began to grace my senses when all of the sudden everything around me seemed sharp. My eyes flung open with a single thought on my mind.

_What time is it?_

The red letters of my alarm clock flared with the numbers three one five. Slowly I began to panic.

_I'm late for work: Lordy, I'm late! Or maybe it's the weekend… Raoul was an ass on Wednesday… Oh my lans, it's Saturday! I haven't gone to work and I didn't even call in! The girls doubtlessly blew the place up. I've probably been fired..._

_Raoul sucks for hurting Janna._

The whole situation made my insides clench and my throat set ablaze, ripping open invisible wounds that shouldn't have been mine. The pain was more severe than before, whimpers escaping my mouth; however, no tears gathered in my eyes. My tear ducts were spent, so there would be no more of that. It was a shame because I actually had my own reason to cry. My body quivered, the convulsions getting harder to bear as the pain spread all throughout me. I felt like I was going to die.

Suddenly, I thought of something and reached in the space between my cot and the wall. After a bit of fumbling, my hand touched cool metal. I closed my fingers around it, relishing the feel of it.

_Maybe this can help._

It was a gold-chained necklace with a large, black rose charm. Janna gave it to me after my second year in Arestown as a thank-you-for-sticking-around-for-awhile-you-little-tyke present. It was the nicest thing I had the pleasure of owning. The metal flower glowed in my palms with happy yellow and light blue colors. Once I asked Janna if she could see them. She replied that she had not, but I always did seem happy when I was wearing it. It was then that I began to theorize that certain objects have the ability to sustain an expressive aura. For this reason, I rarely relish its presence, fearing that I might drain the goodness away.

With that first touch, I immediately felt a little better— the emptiness inside of me decreasing a little.

_Lordy, I'm glad I got to Janna. She wouldn't have been able to handle this kind of grief. At least I have this necklace to help cope._

I clutched the black blossom to my chest and felt my hollowness gradually disappear. The edges of my vision became fuzzy and I found that my eyes were unable to leave the spot on the empty wall that they were focusing on. I stayed like that for awhile, sinking further into my relieving trance. I almost fell asleep— almost.

I jolted out of my stupor.

Someone was approaching fast, swirling with a powerful, complicated mix of emotions. I sensed the white of anger, the pink of confusion, the icy-blue of loneliness, the red-violet of dread, and the slightest hint of golden triumph. There was something else too, but it didn't seem to be an emotion. It was foreign to me. Turning around and checking the window, I could see no one on the flat rooftop outside. No one, that is, until a figure fell into view.

It was all so fast— A blur of black and green crashed smack into the top of the portion of roof outside of my window, the emotions escalating until the figure made impact. I myself was shaken back by an unseen force. There wasn't even a noise until five seconds after it had happened. Stunned I didn't move, trying to convince myself that what I just saw had happened. After gathering my wits, I turned the lock on the window and opened it, cautiously stepping through the space onto the roof. There were chunks of debris surrounding the small area that the fallen form had permeated. I crept closer, slightly afraid of what I might see.

_I can still grasp their feelings, so they can't be dead… yet._

"H-hello?" I called warily as I finally came upon the figure. When I got a glimpse, my sense of uneasiness only increased.

It was a man,

there were no visible wounds on him,

and he was staring right at me.

**Author's Note: Slow goings, I know. I just want this story to make sense. (This is in reference to how long it has taken me to post and the plotline itself.) I WAS going to post this on the same day as Ch. 1, but something felt… wrong. Also— that thing that I said about not wanting to post really long chapters? Not gonna happen. Now that the fallen prince of Asgard has appeared, this story can move along a little faster. **

**Thank you readers who have reviewed. It warms my heart to know that someone is reading this.**

**Now let the games begin.**


	4. Ch 3 You May Be Useful Pt 1

Ch. 3 You May Be Useful… Pt. 1

Falling was supposed to be the end. I seemed to be very apt to it what with my identity as the Prince of Lies and a life truly deserving of the title. I let go, ready to experience the ultimate closure, but fate is a lover of tricks as well. Instead of experiencing my true end, I was greeted with an opportunity that only a fool would refuse. I cast away my anguish and welcomed the fiery embrace of hatred and revenge. With my defeat, the burning only grew stronger, driving me to take a leap of faith once again, this time in search of a new beginning.

Heimdall was no threat, not after I detached his left leg. The pathetic fool thought that he would be able to detain me—Loki, son of Laufey. How the guardian gained the notion that my magic—which I have outwitted him with on more occasions than he will ever know, was no match for his, I will never process. Having cut down my last obstacle from freedom, I stepped lightly on the ruins of the Bifrost. Its remains were still quite striking despite the damage dealt by Mjolnir; however, the same could not be said for its ability to transport.

I was feeling drained at that point, having used a large quantity of power avoiding Heimdall and blasting his leg off with a nasty offensive spell that I had learned many years ago, but I knew that I needed to use a dangerous amount of what was left of my stamina reserves to make it to my destination.

That was the part that had made me nervous—why I had to see Sigyn. I began planning my escape the moment Thor and I landed on Asgard, but Heimdall posed a problem. When I froze him in ice, I had power stones to lend me their might. I was not sure that I would be able to survive an encounter without their aid, nor was I sure that I would have enough energy left to travel to Midgard without experiencing a fatal outcome. Sigyn's predictions had been most informative, showing evidence of my survival. With the turnout of my flight being conclusive, I leapt from the jagged vestiges of the Bifrost into the cosmos below.

For a moment I was suspended, a universe of space and light surrounding me. Then I began rapidly sinking further into the abyss of stars. I summoned what was left of my magic and began to breathlessly chant a spell of boundary opening after I had gained some distance between Asgard and myself.

"Magic of mine,

The ability be thine,

To open the gate to Midgard

Open the way,

Open I say,

May from Asgard we both be apart."

And with that, I could no longer move, what was left of my stamina lending itself to the spell. One moment I was suspended in Asgard's bright void and the next I was rapidly falling downward against a sky of light blue. My stomach fluttered and my vision blurred as the speed of my descent increased. Buildings became smudges of dull color: Midgardian vehicles no longer appeared as small as flower seeds. I closed my eyes as I remembered that I would feel a collision eventually.

"_You shall survive." _I held the assurance close in my mind, repeating it time and again. Weariness prevented me from thinking of much else. My mind was lulling away in exhaustion when I made contact with surface. My eyes flew open with the shock of the impact and my heartbeat quickened almost as fast as it had when the large green brute effortlessly flogged me during my last failure. I felt not a thing other than shock. A deafening crack followed seconds after my crash and my surroundings shook slightly.

I feebly attempted to lift my arms. My eyes squinted slightly at the effort, but I was too weak. All sense of triumph that I held close to me was gone. The anger I had been holding in coursed through me as I tried again and again to perform the simple task.

Somewhere to my left, I heard a creak. I slowly moved my head to observe a blurry shape moving towards me.

"H-hello?" A voice warily seemed to call.

_Midgardian_— a female by the voice of her. I felt a sense of dread at the thought of such swine seeing me in my state of dishevelment.

My vision slightly began to focus; however, no intricate details such as facial features could be perceived. The maiden was a fuzzy blob of colors now. Untidy red, paleness, gray, and a light brown reached my vision, but were fading just as fast as they came into focus. I'm sure that my staring unnerved her. I did not blink, trying to size up her intelligence from her stance. She did not move for a long time, most probably due to fear of a man falling from the sky.

_Frightened little wench— she will be an easy pawn to manipulate. The fool will be my first subject once I… I can't for now. My magic has drained away too much of me. She will probably ask questions. Women and their constant need to know everything of ill importance... She will believe me no matter what I say, her apprehension from before and witnessing my fall assures me that. Perhaps I should be truthful? No, I shall tell untruths till my strength returns. Nor shall I—_

"Oh my lans! Sir, I'll call nine-one-one and get you to a—" I felt hands on my armor as she began to cut off my last thought: _Nor shall I pursue contact with other Midgardians until I am at full power._

"DON'T." I shouted with everything that I could muster. I felt my face twist as I barked out the command. The hands jerked back at the sound of my voice, but settled once they had calmed.

"Sir?"

"Please." I whispered, lowering my voice partly to convince her to heed my wishes and partly because feathery blackness tickled the boundaries of my vision, reminding me of my condition. I raised my eyebrows, shifting my expression into that of innocence— a look that I prided myself upon. There was not a single soul that I had encountered save the gate guardian that can resist it.

"_Silver tongue turned to lead?" _I winced at the burning, unpleasant memory— resenting it. Surely this added another mark towards the lass's sympathy.

"…Alright." She spoke softly. I sighed and closed my eyes.

_Deceiving this woman shall be all too easy…_

I felt a light touch on my forehead. It was strange, the sensation I experienced before I fell to unconsciousness. My anger had certainly lessened a great deal, as if it were ebbing away from me. I didn't feel as awful about the situation I was currently engaged in anymore as well. I felt as if I were being lifted higher— like I had been tied to Mjolnir this entire time and the sensation severed my bonds. My face relaxed and the tension around my being lessened.

_I feel almost… pleasant._

When I came to, I was lying down in a Midgardian bed. The room that encased it seemed similar to one of the cheap working class residences that I destroyed near Stark Tower. Its walls were a horrid coffee color, brown stains forming watery cloud patterns. There were Midgardian conveniences on the wall opposite me and a large window casting an orange glow upon everything that the sun's light can reach. I attempted to get a better look so that I could plan escape routes should I need to leave quicker than my full recovery, but the pillows were too tough for me to budge in my weakened state. This was hardly a place fit for one made to rule.

Frustrated, I let myself sink further into the pillow my head rested on. The blankets were a comfort, feeling soft and causing a pleasant temperature to fall upon my skin.

_My skin?_

My armor, cloak, and shirt were missing, though my trousers remained. Had I the energy, I would have bolted up and leapt out of the cot, searching for my missing clothing and cutting down anything that hindered the process. Instead, all I could manage was a slight bodily twitch. I sighed in more irritation, drawing my eyebrows together tightly.

As quickly as the annoyance overwhelmed me, it disappeared. I felt a little invigorated—like I had gained more vitality. I even felt a little… happy. Suppressing the alien emotion, I tested out my energy theory and nudged at the pillows with my head. I was now able to move them, stretching my neck to look around more. I could see carpet now—burgundy and trampled on. There was also another Midgardian convenience connected to a wall.

A sigh sounded from next to me.

"So you're awake now?" A voice that I recognized as the maiden's from earlier spoke.

I looked up at the woman and took note the newfound clarifications my eyesight made in her appearance. She had long, red hair pulled back into a loose bun that looked as if it had been recently wet. Her skin was extremely pale, as if it hadn't seen the light of day for some time. Brown circles rested underneath her eye, which were a light blue. She looked like she was entering the first stages of Midgardian adulthood, possibly in her twenties—young. There was no sign of the gray and light brown color that made up her figure when I was last conscious, replaced with a plain green t-shirt and a Migardian invention called "jean shorts." A curious- looking flower attached to a chain hung from her neck. Currently she was sitting cross-legged next to the low cot, staring down at me.

_I really don't appreciate being looked down upon_, I thought, inwardly knowing I should feel agitated at the lowly position I was in, but finding the thought whisping away with a jolt of more energy. The more positive change in my thoughts showed itself with, _but I'll suppose that I'll bear with it for now._

The maiden was still under my gaze. She was apparently annoyed with my unresponsiveness rather than frightened this time. She broke the silence that I was just observing testily.

"Look, you just fell from the sky, you're in my apartment, and you don't seem to be seriously hurt like you should be— some answers would be nice. Who are you?"

Surely this was not the same woman as before? She gave me a much more timid impression after my landing. Still, she appeared to be naive enough for me to feed her arbitrary fabrications. Now what to say?

I let the corners of my mouth upturn slightly and pretended to wince at the action, hoping to make the woman think that I was in a weaker state— one never knows what situations shall befall their person in the future. It is always better to be safe than sorry.

"I—" My eyes widened slightly at the hoarseness of my voice. Humiliation crawled over my skin at the realization that my strongest weapon had been impaired. Seeing the cause of my worry, the woman stood up. The slight motion of her hand caught my eye. The humiliation left me and that empowering feeling entered my being again.

"Am going to be given some t-tea, to help your throat." She stammered seeming embarrassed as she made her way to the door, red hair shielding her face. I caught the lightest trace of a blush as she clutched at the pendant around her neck.

_How odd. Annoyed one minute and discomfited the next? Perhaps she's on her monthly cycle…_

She touched the handle of one of the two doors in the apartment. "I'll be right back— my stove hasn't been working properly, so I need to use someone else's… I'll get you some soup to eat too. You won't be alone. M-my friend and I have been looking after you. She'll be here in a minute," She stepped out, then returned quickly as another thought hit her. "But… I still want some answers."

"Yes." My voice croaked. I settled back, furrowing my brows slightly and allowed myself a brief pout.

_This is demeaning._

"Oooooooh, someone's finally awake?" A repulsively loud voice molested my ears. My face fell blank as another woman stooped next to me. "How are you feeling? I'm Janna Allsweet—You know, I've heard that being hit by a car is quite painful. Don't blame Mercy though, it's not something she can really help much. It's actually more my fault than hers. You're lucky that you didn't die— then again, she is a cautious driver. You know, maybe this isn't so bad. You two have talked right? You're kind of cute, if you don't mind me saying. Hey—"

_Valhalla, this Janna woman is annoying! When I am king, people such as her shall be purged from existence. _Remembering before, I retreated within myself and waited for the strange feeling that came over me whenever I felt negative. It did not occur. _How_ _peculiar. The only change is that the moody one is not here… perhaps she is linked to my accelerated energy recovery? Mercy… she spoke as if the word were the strange one's name. _I continued to block out the annoying woman and ponder the conundrum of how I was reaching my former vigor so quickly.

"—and that's why I'm currently single. Anyways, she's more unfortunate than me in that area of study if you catch my drift. I think that she's lonely, she's just too afraid to admit it. You're the first guy to set foot in her apartment in maybe… a year and a half. You look extremely adorable when you're asleep—ohhohhoh! You must be feeling hot. I took off some of your clothes earlier so that you wouldn't overheat, but Arestown is quite the hot spot. Consider yourself quite lucky sir! I mean, after all, you get looked after by one of the one of the most gorgeous women in all of upstate Pennsylvania— And her shy friend of course."

I smiled slightly, hoping that it would shut the woman up, but the wretched creature resumed speaking with a vengeance.

_The cursed woman is worse than a drunken Fandral recounting one of his debaucheries! She even took my cloak away. Idiotic wench—it had enchantments to keep my temperature regulated!_

I closed my eyes and discreetly practiced moving my limbs while pretending to listen to Janna. I could move them fine, but it was best not to let the two women know if I was to make an unhindered escape— not that the two would be able to prevent it.

The sun was now down, leaving the room dark. I took note of the sheets on my skin again, having forgotten about my missing apparel due to my current, obnoxious sentry.

_Vexing. That's what this is. I wish that Sigyn had warned me of these humiliations…_ A dark smile crept onto my face, not that the Midgardian noticed. _I will have my revenge for such hindrances when I am KING._

"Janna, my hands are full—can you open the door?" The muffled voice of the Mercy woman came.

"Sure thing Cain!" Janna said as she opened the door. "Lordy hun! Come in. Careful with the tray!"

The red head looked at her, slightly annoyed. "It's my apartment: I don't care much if something gets spilled, the carpet is dirty enough as it is." She placed the tray down on a counter and turned on a lamp, giving everything in the room an added yellow clarity. "Thanks for your help. I'll keep after him this time."

"Alrighty Cain, happy healing!" She called addressing me with the last string of words— then the door shut.

I shuddered under the sheets.

_Thank the Allfather— the ignoramus abomination is gone._

"She's not that bad, actually—just a little overwhelming at first."

_THERE—the feeling. ENERGY. The joy. It's back. My foul mood is gone! This Mercy has to be connected to it. Curious. I have full use of my muscles, but I still haven't regained enough verve to use magic. This maiden… she's like a battery of sorts. Perhaps she can be of use to me…_

I smiled darkly on the inside, not wanting to alarm my caretaker, but I still received a concerned stare. I was almost ready. My magic's full capacity just barely beginning to pulsate through my body,

_And when it comes, may the Allfather have mercy on these pathetic Midgardian souls._

**Author's Note: I am SO SORRY that this took so long! I've written and rewritten this chapter so many times, I'm almost sick of it. It's from Loki's point of view because Mercy's POV is a bit complicated and emotional. It will also save you from having to guess at the Master of Mischief's complicated thought process (though my thoughts are never complicated, so it makes him hard to write for.) I also don't want this to be a gushy love story, but there will be a romance sub plot. I want to actually give this merit— to have a point to it. *Tee-hee, I have up to Ch. 20 planned, I just need to type it all.* I apologize to the flattering and encouraging souls who kindly reviewed and began watching this story. (I type every day jsyk.) You have no idea how ecstatic I am that someone is reading this story. If there are any mistakes in this chapter, please let me know so that I can purge the story of my error. Thank youuuuuuuu!**


	5. Ch 3 You May Be Useful Pt 2

Ch. 3 You May be Useful… Pt.2

"Do you think that you can sit up?"

I gazed straight at the auburn Midgardian for a second, then proceeded to struggle and coax myself into a sitting position. I knitted my brows together and grinded my teeth, acting as if the entire ordeal was a difficult chore. When I was finished, I let out a gasp and looked up at her with my 'innocent' face. Pity shadowed over her light eyes as she moved close. Her eyebrows were slightly tilted upwards. In her hand was a hot mug of tea.

"Can you handle the tea?" I nodded, smiling lightly and made a show of attempting to lift my arms yet failing.

Flushing slightly, the woman spoke again. "Well…I guess that I'll help you. Do you want ice cubes or something to cool the tea down? Maybe tea wasn't the right way to go… It's really hot."

I shook my head. I had a sudden yearning for the hot liquid, anger overcoming the recent, alien joy occupying my mood. This woman was indeed aiding me— in more ways than she thought, but I despised that she had power over me in holding the beverage.

Slowly, she brought the mug to my lips. I breathed in the smell of herbs and began sipping lightly. The tea was bitter at first and swelteringly hot as I swallowed, but eventually I found myself gulping it down, my thirst overwhelming now that I had something to soothe it. Inwardly I scowled.

_Perhaps she would not be a keen servant as I had initially thought. She can't even properly mix a beverage._ All of the sweetness had rested in the bottom of the cup. _In my kingdom, there shall be no such thing as an ill-mixed brew. Hmph—_

I twitched up the corners of my mouth as I tried to fake gratitude— the increasingly familiar power force aiding in their ascent.

"Thank you Miss…?"

"Mercy Cain, but I prefer Cain." She looked at me seriously. "You don't have to force yourself, I can tell that you didn't like it."

"Very well then." I replied complacently. "It was the most dreadful drink that I have ever had the displeasure of swallowing." I lied, recalling the time that Thor gave me a concoction of what was supposed to be mead that he had created. She got up from her perch beside me, placing the empty mug in her sink. She blatantly walked past the tray with soup and sat cross-legged next to me. I did not mind sitting up because I now held the dominance Lady Mercy had previously and obliviously held over me— I gazed DOWN upon HER due to my height.

"And who is the mystery man who falls from the sky and critiques my wonderful generic Lipton tea-making skills?"

_I can surely use magic now, but not as much as I want. If I make up a lie, I'll obviously be detached from it regardless of how well I can act. If I tell the truth, I can elicit a more emotional response out of myself and reach my goal._

"I am Loki Laufeyson, god of Mischief. I fell from the great land of Asgard." There was a pregnant pause following my utterance of _truth_.

_Perhaps I overestimate her processing abilities— I already suffered for my last assumption._ I thought as I tasted traces of sweetness on my tongue and crinkled my nose. Once I began weaving more webs of thought, Cain halted the process by breaking into a fit of laughter. I glanced down at her, slightly raising my left eyebrow.

"I-hi-hi-I'm sorry!" She choked out between giggles of mirth. "I w-wa-wondering if you g-got away scot-free after your falling epi-sode." She clutched her sides: Her auburn hair fell out of her unstable bun and landed in her face. "Ap-p-p-parently not— you've lost your marbles! Bwa-ha!" Her cheeks turned red and tears began to stream from her eyes.

I sighed, irritated by her disbelief— which was true to my thoughts earlier on being honest. She visibly attempted to calm herself, squeaking behind a hand that masked her mouth. I felt the power— the last ounce that I needed, flow through the air over towards me. My cheeks rose, my lips thinned, and my brows lowered as I felt a smirk form on my face.

_Everything went as I had hoped. My little find has been stupid enough to aid me in the robbing of her freedom… but I don't have possession of the staff… Perhaps I could use magic to gain leverage over her— yes! That's brilliant!_

From the outskirts of my line of sight, I saw that my future subject had started coughing from the abruptness of her effort to cease laughing. I closed my eyes and recalled a spell, reaching out into her mind. Within seconds of searching, I found what I had been looking for.

_An empath? A pendant of joy? How… interesting._ The bliss of malice settled over me, deepening my smirk.

"So if my identity is so unbelievable that you must laugh at me, am I to believe that you are being truthful Lady _Mercy_, daughter of _John_ and _Leanne_?"

Her coughing bout ended immediately as she stiffened and shifted her body slightly. Worry took the form of lines upon her forehead.

"How do you know about them?" I turned my head towards her nervous form and cocked it slightly to the right.

"I know many things. I am Loki, son of the former Jotun king, Laufey. I am the Maker of Mischief, Lord of Lies, Son of Secrets… You have kept a good many of those, haven't you Mercy?" I fully turned my body to face hers, which was gradually edging back. I relished my taller height as I stared into her frightened face.

_She's too shocked to force it on me— Let's take advantage of that, shall we?_

"Surely you have heard of my recent handiwork in New York? Your friend— Janna, yes? She said that this is 'Pennsylvania.' If I remember correctly, that isn't too far from the so-called 'Big Apple.' I'm aspiring to rule this planet, but my brother and his band of misfit friends are not fond of the idea of freedom from freedom." I leaned in closer, shifting my weight from my legs to my hands and used my most persuasive of tones when addressing her next. "You could be a valuable help should you choose to join me."

"I don't— you're crazy!" Mercy shouted as she stood up quickly and darted for the door. With a visible jolt of her wrist, a cloud of fear bore down upon me.

_I'm going to be alone… Odin will cut me down for my failure. Worse— he'll take away my magic. Maybe I am the Ragnorak bringer. No one will accept me, love me, look at me. I'll be nothing while remaining something— a wasted existence. Meaningless_. I clutched my head, fighting the onslaught of unwelcome thoughts as Lady Mercy slammed the door leading out to what must be one of the building's hallways. _She's going to get away if I don't calm down. If I catch her, I'll be capable of ruling the seven realms with my limitless power. I won't be able to prove myself to Father, Thor— to anyone without her! I must capture the Midgardian maiden!_

Having successfully talked myself out of my fears, I called forth my missing armor. It materialized, the enchantments on the fabric immediately cooling my body. Satisfied, I conjured two clones of myself. My palms itched as the replicas appeared before me. Immediately, they sprang into action, one climbing out the window and the other heading across the hallway to what I gathered was… _Janna's _dwelling. I cast a seal of silence around all of the vicinities my magic already occupied. Only I would be able to hear the results of my mystical meddling. A rueful smile blessed my expression at the exertion of spells.

_And now I wait._ I thought as I leaned against the space next to the window. Screams sounded from the two separate directions— one high and piercing, the other more like a shout. The clone from outside emerged out of thin air with Lady Cain tight in his grasp as she flailed around. I snapped my fingers to prevent her from hearing the cries from across the hall. It was unnerving to see that a bruise formed on my duplicate's cheek and that its hand had been bitten. The Midgardian's entire appearance was disheveled due to her struggling.

I looked to the floor then back up to the woman and tsk'd at her. I made sure to smile and wink as I did so.

"Lady Mercy—" I began.

"Cain." The ingrate cut me off. My temper led me to knock over the lamp and tray of soup with a swing of my arm, bathing the room in blackness and broth. Bubblings of rage coursed within my blood as I called away the clone. She had one second to relish her temporary release before I struck her face and seized her wrists with my right hand, scowling all the while.

"You wench!" Fury possessing me, I pushed her against the wall. She was calm as I did so, which only angered me further.

_Well, that will change soon enough. Supremacy is what I have: Supremacy is what shall remain mine._

"You do not understand your place, dear Miss _Mercy_. I am to rule and you are being offered an honorable place in my future kingdom. I have yet to receive an answer from you. I demand that you give me a proper reply now, you troublesome_ Vanir_," I spat in her confused face. "Or would you prefer the term _mutant_?" My anger was edging away as elation approached. Mentally, I fought for what was mine as looked down at the flower pendant around her neck.

_An energy source…_

"None of that." I whispered, angling my face towards her, allowing little space between us. I reached for the flower with my left hand and yanked it from around her neck, breaking the chain. Then I concealed the object within a hidden pocket on my person.

None of the energy that had transfused into me previously made an appearance. I was not angry, nor was I overjoyed. I was simply… neutral. Lady Mercy's face reflected my emptiness.

"Will you serve me in my conquest to take over this realm, Lady Mercy? Will you submit to be rid of the burden that is freedom? I asked quietly. My eyes made contact with hers.

_She may be putting on a composed front, but the intensity of her eyes certainly suggests otherwise._

They were flaring with anger.

I continued on, "Know this, Lady Mercy— no matter which option you choose, I shall have my way. Perhaps if you agree now, I can bring back the man that—

"No," She interrupted quietly, her voice firm. "I will not."

"Very well then." I deadpanned. She fell to the floor as I let go of her wrists. "When I am in need of your services again Lady Mercy, I shall return." I bent down, placing my right palm on her forehead before she made another escape attempt. I stared at her petty human form, watching as I erased her memories of my presence. Her eyes widened, turning a dark green as my magic worked upon her.

_That color is most striking. It's a shame that I have to take away her first impression of her future king, but she won't cooperate otherwise_. I waited a few moments before removing my palm. _That should be sufficient._

When I released my hold, she slumped over, red hair splaying out around her head and shoulders. Shaking my head, I tsk'd and furrowed my brows. She would not hinder my mood while unconscious. Annoyed, I surveyed the room. With a snap of my fingers, the broken lamp repaired itself and moved back to its place on the ruddy apartment's counter. The soup bowl and its former contents disappeared. I strode over to the tray and picked it up. I had other plans for the object.

_This shall be most pleasurable._ I thought as I teleported into Janna's apartment. She was lying in a corner, assuming the fetal position while my copy stood watch over her. Her eyes went wide at the sight of two Loki's.

"Y-You—"

"Shut up Midgardian." I interrupted as I recalled the double. "As your acting king, I have a few things to take care of. It would be in your best interests not to open your mouth. I fear that your voice aggravates me to a point where I cannot control myself. I might just cut out your tongue the next time I hear it." I said casually as I strolled over to her pathetic form, tray still in hand and my innocent expression occupying my features.

_I really want for her to speak. Cutting out her tongue would be a satisfying revenge for removing my armor._

"I have decided that you shall only be a hindrance if allowed to live."

"W-What?" She straightened up, tears beginning to leak out of her wide, brown eyes.

_Excellent._ I smirked as I lifted a finger and pointed at Janna.

"Ah— you spoke. Now I'm going to kill you with a tray."

"No! Don't—don't hurt me! I helped you! Cain helped you! Why would you do this? Please let me live!" She pleaded as I raised my weapon.

"A secret to a flawless plan: No loose ends." was my only response.

**Author's Note: Typing is fun, but I feel drained. To those who have reviewed: You have made my life. It's nice to know that Mercy isn't Mary-Sue. I'm trying hard to keep it that way. It's tough to judge your own characters, so I really appreciate your feedback. Thank you for your support thus far.**


	6. Ch 4 Only a Dream

Ch. 4 Only A Dream

My entire body twinged with stiffness as I stirred from a dreamless sleep. A dull ache hammered in my skull as I slowly sat up in an attempt to not aggravate my already sore limbs. The hair in my face obscured my vision as I made my way to the bathroom. I turned on the sink and began washing my face: The cool water eased the throbbing in my head, but did not erase it completely. Sighing, I opened the medicine cabinet and grabbed a bottle of pills for headaches. Snatching my hairbrush and making my way to the fridge, I took two tablets dry.

_Why the hell did I fall asleep on the carpet?_ I thought grouchily as I began brushing my hair and pulling it back into a loose bun— I never did anything else with it. _And with my normal clothes on too! I couldn't have been that tired. Why did I… I was going to see Janna._ I bit my lower lip. _I hope she's not mad at me for the Raoul thing._ _Then again, she knows how I am._

Selecting the last apple, I took a munch out of my 'I-don't-know-what-time-of-day-it-is-I-should-probably-check-on-that' meal. Leaning to catch sight of the alarm clock, I noted that it was one o'clock in the afternoon.

_I should probably go check on Janna. Maybe get my mail… I'm not sure that I want to see a letter from my boss… Ugh. Janna will help me find another job. She's awesome like that._

Having made it to the hallway door, my right hand closed around the cool handle, my apple still in my left. I froze for a second, sensing a lot of curiosity, fear, and sadness with a light hint of apprehension. The apprehension didn't bother me so much as the other emotions in the hodgepodge of moods in the hall: A lot of drama seems to go down in our hallway, but mixtures of this complexity usually occur _outside_ of the apartment complex.

_Maybe if I'm quick, I can get to Janna's before anyone notices._

I turned the doorknob quickly and pulled back. Janna's apartment door wasn't what I saw.

_Frak._

Standing in front of me was a woman with short, wavy red hair that was slightly darker than mine. She stood a few inches taller than me. Her dark blue eyes were blank and her hand was raised as if to knock on the now-open entrance. She was wearing a white blouse, a light leather jacket, blue skinny jeans, and black heeled boots.

_She must be absolutely mad to be dressing so warmly in this heat._

Adorned on the breast pocket of the jacket was a gold police badge. At the sight of her, I automatically felt self conscious. Not just because I was still a mess, but also because she was a cop. It doesn't matter whether you've done something wrong or not, having cops at your door is a _very_ bad sign. This is _especially_ true if you're a mutant.

The shock that tinted her aura lavender disappeared almost as instantly as it had emerged. Slowly she retracted her hand. Her eyes looked at me seriously as I got a reading on her. The only feedback I that I picked up on was anxiousness and detachment, the levels of which were almost unnoticeable.

"Hi— Detective Fitzpatrick." She introduced, reaching out the hand that she had lowered. Warily, I reached out and shook it. It was a quick gesture. Firm. Intimidating.

_Something's off. I'm getting a whole lot of blank from her._

"May I come in? You're not going to want to go outside." She spoke as she looked past me into my dwelling.

"Why not?" I asked, not bothering to answer her first question.

"We both know why, but I'm sure that you'd be a bit more comfortable discussing it in your apartment."

_What is she on about?_

"I'm sorry, I'm confused." Annoyance rose up around the detective as she moved past me, finally allowing me to see what the big deal was.

The sight was mortifying, though not much could be seen. There was blood spattered all over Janna's doorway, which was slightly ajar. The black and yellow DO NOT CROSS crime scene tape and my nosy fellow tenants hindered my sight as I tried to catch a glimpse of what was inside. All I could make out were blotches of red that seemed to be black in some areas. When someone moved, I caught sight of a… severed tongue nailed to the wall next to the tape…

_Oh God—_ Nausea rose up within me. _Not Janna, not Janna, not Janna— Lord please, not Janna!_

I turned around and closed the door, slumping behind it and releasing the apple. The room around me suddenly seemed darker. My floodgates were burning with the hot tears that they were trying to barricade, but I held fast by scrunching my eyebrows and sheer willpower. My breathing, on the other hand, was ragged and painful. A light, yet high-pitched wheezing escaped me with each breath my lungs fought for. Everything around me was blurry, but I could still make out the detective standing above me.

"Do you think that you can speak?"

_Indifference. Annoyance? I get that it's your job, but at least show some courtesy!_

"Just… give me a minute."

_My necklace can help._ I thought as I reached towards my neck. _What?_ My fingers came in contact with only cloth. I slumped over more to fight another onslaught of the potential tearful relief that fought against my resolve. _I know that I wore it yesterday! I kept it on me after I remembered that I had it! No no no no no no… Now I don't have anything left of her…_

"Did you know her?"

_Maybe I could transf— NO. That's worst-case scenario only. I've been through…worse without it._

Heaving, I croaked out, "Yes— she was-was my best friend."

Detective Fitzpatrick's aura was dyed pastel yellow and a bit of white anger joined in. Her composure remained blank until she raised an eyebrow.

"So you're going to pretend that you know nothing about this?'

"Excuse me?" I asked, incredulous.

"We both know who was here yesterday Miss Cain." She placed a hand on her hip and flipped her hair back.

_Who? Is she screwed up in the head? How does she know my name? _My grief was starting to redirect itself into a mild form of anger.

"I'm sorry, but I don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't play games with me Cain. I'm Agent Romanov of S.H.I.E.L.D. and I demand some answers now. What was Loki's purpose in being here?"

_Yes—yes she is._

"What is S.H.I.E.L.D.?"

"That is not the answer I need." She grabbed my shirt and hoisted me up so she could get in my face. "What was Loki doing here? I'm not going to ask again."

I lost it.

"I don't know who Loki is! I was going to see Janna, then I woke up and opened the door and she's dead and her _tongue_ is _nailed to the wall_ and now I have some crazy chick in my face!" I shouted. "If this is a joke, it's really sick."

_I hate her, I hate her, I hate her for thinking that I had something to do with this._ I thought as I squeezed my eyes shut. I could no longer defend myself against the streams of suppressed pain. _Janna is dead, Janna is dead, my best friend Janna is dead, the only person who understood me is dead, why does she have to be dead, why is this being pushed off in me, I'll never get to celebrate un-birthdays or say hi in the morning, or hear her laugh, or drink cocoa, or—_ Another thought hit me like one of Louis's punches.

"It's because I'm a mutant, isn't it?" I asked quietly. Light shock. "My lans, it's because you know I'm a fraking mutant!" My voice rose with each word. "You came to get rid of the little stain of the town, didn't you? You killed her and fabricated a lie so that you can lock me away, use me as a lab rat, then kill me! Is that it? Well, I've got some news for you— I'm not special like other mutants. They get to slice things, teleport, and blow things up. I can only take away people's emotional garbage and give them every ounce of what little levity I have. You took away the one person who has ever made me feel like an equal— like I'm not a monster." I held my breath when I was finished. Tears streamed down my face— whether out of strife or resentment I no longer knew. Perhaps both.

_It's not fair. I cried harder when I had Janna's… She was always more emotional than me. Stupid mutant gene! If it hadn't been for me, she wouldn't have been murdered._

Agent Romanov studied my face as I yelled at her, shock completely gone and replaced with the lightly tingling greenish-gray of disappointment. We were motionless in what have been silence were it not for my small whimpers— me being held a few inches above the ground by her strong grip, tears wetting her fists, and her analyzing my face. Eventually, she sighed and set me down.

"You pass."

Confused, I looked up at her.

She turned around and tapped an ear piece that I had failed to notice.

"H.Q., this is Agent Romanov. I came in contact with Mercy Cain. You picked up everything, right?" she paused for a second, listening to what the other party had to say. She turned and looked at me.

"Yes, I'm sure she wasn't lying. She doesn't remember anything— Director Fury, please get Stark off the line!"

_She threatens me, pisses me off, and then tells me I'm alright? What about 'Stark'? Does she mean Tony Stark? What is going ON?_ I thought as my tears continued to cause my cheeks to swell. I could feel my hair falling out of my bun. I strained my ears in the quiet to understand what was going on. All I could make out was muffled… shouting maybe?

"FINE." The agent faced me. Her exasperation showed itself openly now, creeping onto her face and ringing clearly in her voice. "Yes director— GOODBYE STARK." Removing her hand from the ear piece, she heaved out an audible groan.

_She's probably more open now because she told me who she was._

"I apologize for all that. I just needed to find out whether or not you were lying." She half-smiled. "Loki is pretty dangerous. He recently escaped imprisonment and made it to your apartment. We need to find him as soon as possible before he tries to take over the human race again."

"I-I'm sorry, I-"

"We need to recover the memory that you've lost… and figure out why he let you live."

I was silent as I tried to process what was being said.

Loki... the name sounds familiar… Who is— shield. What is that?

"Shield?" I asked as I huffed.

"It's the organization that aided in the creation of the Avengers. We help protect Earth from evil agents no matter where the enemy's origin is."

"What do you mean by—"

"Look, bottom line: I'm taking you with me so that we can figure some things out." She paused. "And… this isn't because you're a mutant."

That was the last thing I heard before collapsing onto the dirty carpet, my sore neck muscles numbing as her right hand withdrew from my neck after its swift strike. My body welcomed a dreamless sleep similar to that which I woke up from this morning— afternoon, as I felt hands lifting me up.

_If only… this… had been the dream._


	7. Ch 5 Dark Is the Way

Ch. 5 Dark Is the Way…

When I came to, I was in a cozy space. Warm light permeated through my eyelids, though it wasn't harsh. There was a soft fuzziness all around me and a nice cool temperature blew on my face; however, I wasn't completely comfortable. My neck hurt and my face felt a little swollen, but the rest of me felt rejuvenated.

_I haven't had a good sleep like this since Janna and I bought that new mattress…_

My eyes flew open as I jerked awake, reaching full consciousness.

_Janna's dead._

My heart heaved.

_My face feels puffy because I was crying. The crazy agent Shield or whatever jabbed me._ I rubbed at my neck. _So now I'm… somewhere._

I sat up, deciding to get a look around. The room was smaller than my apartment, lacking the technology that I thrived off of— but it was certainly much nicer. The area didn't sport grubby flooring or stained walls. Instead, the floor held what looked like soft, scraggly carpet and the walls were covered with an even coat of white paint that reflected the bright light shining down from the middle of the ceiling.

_No windows..._

Facing the bed on the opposite wall was a dim entryway with what looked like a sink just barely peeking out from behind another wall.

_Bathroom. Alright. At least this S.H.I.E.L.D. group shows courtesy towards prisoners— though they don't leave many escape options._

I noticed a small desk with a note on it as I sighed in frustration. Reaching over, I snatched it and curled up in the soft sheets as I read the straight handwriting— almost as if it had been typed on the computer, but there was something about the letters and the ink that hinted otherwise.

_I'm going to collect you within fifteen minutes. You'll get your answers. Clean yourself up a bit. There are fresh clothes and towels on the sink next to the shower. You're coming with me when I get there whether you're ready or not, so I suggest that you hurry._

_-Romanov_

Groaning, I kicked the cozy cocoon of sheets off with my legs and rolled off of the bed.

_Who knows how long that's been sitting there? I'm feeling gross anyway. _Lightly feeling my cheeks, I continued. _Wherever I am, we either got here fast or it's really close to Arestown— my face is still sticky._

The bathroom was not as cramped as the one in my apartment. There was a lot more breathing room, but it was still small. A shower cubicle was located right behind a wall that had obscured my view of the sink. Off to the side was a toilet and a light-brown cabinet. Located from across the shower was a white, bowl-shaped sink. True to Miss Romanov's word, there were two towels and a change of clothes. Sighing, I opened the door to the shower and washed. The cold water rained down on me softly, helping me to clear my thoughts.

_Janna… I never got to talk to her after I took away her heartache. I wonder how she was doing? Perhaps she had already found another boyfriend._

I smiled a bit at the thought, but it wilted quickly as my mind started connecting too many threads of thought for its own good.

_But now I'm alone— Oh no._

My eyes widened as dread coursed through me, causing the feel of the cold water to register a little more as it landed on and rolled down my skin. I shivered and reached towards the shower knob to change the temperature.

_I don't know where I am and my captors know that I'm a mutant._

Harsh memories began to resurface from their home, the back of my mind.

_I was eight years old when I had wandered downstairs to get myself a cup of water. I was about to just waltz in the kitchen, but I stopped myself noticing my parents sitting at the table. My father's face was grave, creases forming on his forehead as he stared at my mother, who looked wide-eyed and lost. The air was tense, swirling with anger, fear, and worry. I had been noticing the trio of emotions fluttering around my parents for some time. My instinct led me to hide around the corner and listen in._

"_Do you think that we should donate her, you know— to that research facility in Canada?"_

"_No, I've heard that some of the experiments escaped and they're ten times worse than before they entered that dump. Remember that Wolverine guy? Besides, there's also some rumors floating around that they experiment transferring the mutant gene to regular people like us. Just rumors— like uh… that Wade Wilson guy I used to be buddies with. He went in and never came out as far as I know. I'm pretty sure he killed himself. Leanne, I refuse to support such atrocities."_

"_Well what do YOU suggest we do John? If we try to hurt her, she'll know. It's like she can get inside our heads. She can turn everything around on us."_

"_Not if she's asleep she can't."_

_I stood there, wide-eyed and trembling as I listened. For the first time in my short life, I was absolutely terrified of someone— and that someone was my own father._

_My spirit fell at the turn of the conversation. The thought that my parents were afraid of me, that the wanted to kill me— that they thought that I was hurting them, broke my eight year old heart. Slowly and quietly, I crept up with care to my bedroom, gathered some clothes, and climbed out my window._

I shook my head at my young naivety, trying to shake the memory, but more kept coming. Faster and faster, the words, the faces—the awful sights assaulted my thoughts.

_A man pointed at me drunkenly outside of a tavern. "You— you're a mutant!" He turned and called inside to the establishment's patrons. "Everyone, this little rat's a mutant!"_

_A family that temporarily too me in cried out as the mob forming a blockade around the home set their house on fire, believing that I was inside to burn with them._

"_Get out of my head!" A child had screamed while assuming the fetal position, protecting his cranium._

"_Demonspawn!" A woman whose sister I had followed, feeling an aura of intense distraught surrounding her, shouted at me. Her sister had committed a murder. Finding evidence, I called the police. The woman shrieked and lunged at me, but the policemen held her back. Her lovely face was contorted with rage and I could see my corpse in her eyes._

_Louis looked down upon me, blood on his fists and a sneer on his simple face. His soft blue eyes shined with abnormally rough vehemence. His flaxen hair was wild from the violent actions he had performed, sticking up in every which direction._

"_You want to say that again?"_

"_Lou, I—I don't want to hurt you." I gasped out as I wiped at the blood leaking from my left temple and leaned back on my elbow. I withstood a lot of blows from him up until that point, which made my efforts to rise from the ground labored. 'Please, stop and try to under…" I coughed a bit. "Try to understand."_

"_A mutant is a mutant—not human. I know what you are, and I'm not afraid of you." His face twisted into a smirk._

'_I did this.' I thought as I hoisted myself up slowly. 'He was so sweet before. All I wanted to do was make him happy. I've turned him into a monster.'_

"_Come on!" He shouted, his lips thinning as his smirk deepened. 'You're not going to make it through this anyway. Might as well get one hit in."_

'_Anger, superiority, mischief… I can't. I won't. I never wanted this.'_

"_No—" I was cut off as Louis swung his arm at me. My eyes widened as I ducked under him and placed my hand on his neck. I'll never forget the stiffness of his muscles underneath my fingers. He wasn't scared: He wanted to kill me. This was a matter of self-defense._

I collapsed to the floor of the shower, my fingers digging into my skull to try and think of something— ANYTHING else but my mutant defect.

"Miss Cain, It's time to go." I heard Agent Romanov call.

_Thank the Lord._ Was my first thought as Miss Romanov helped distract me from my ghosts. My second thought, on the other hand, was much less pleasant. _She's not walking over here, is she? _I listened as I quickly got up off the floor of the shower and turned the water off. There were indeed soft footsteps approaching.

"Don't come in!" I shouted.

"I told you to be ready in fifteen minutes. Our security sensors picked up that you woke up fifteen minutes and thirty-two seconds ago."

_Well that's creepy._

"Well I might surprise you to hear this, but I'm pretty freaked out," I replied from the shower. "And quite frankly, I don't trust you."

"Dry your self and get dressed before I come in there Miss Cain." The woman voiced sternly. "I've got a schedule to keep to." I caught the threads of frustration forming around her.

_Be annoyed with me all you want: This changes nothing._ I thought as I reached for the towels. A few short minutes later, I walked out of the bathroom in the fresh clothing, my hair still sopping wet.

Agent Romanov was waiting by the door with a blank look. Relief flooded her senses as I walked out, but she didn't show it. Today she wore a dark blue jumpsuit that covered her entire form.

_Well now she looks the part._

"Follow me." She commanded as she typed a code into a pad beside the bedroom door. It slid open, revealing a gray, dimly lit hallway. The contrast between it and the room was startling, causing temporary blindness in my sight as my eyes tried to adjust. As soon as I began to follow the smoothly gliding form of the agent, I missed the slightly familiar light. The scenery wasn't that welcoming.

_Well, if I pay close attention, maybe I can plan an escape route._

But it was useless. Everything around me had the same plastic and metal grate look to it. There were a couple of odd silver sliding doors here and there, but they never opened and were all equipped with keypads.

No doubt to prevent me from getting out of here. They sure are secretive.

"You won't be able to escape." I jumped at the sound of Agent Romanov's voice. "This place is a maze. It took me awhile to figure it out— and I even had the plans memorized." Never once did she turn around. Her dark red hair bobbed slightly as she walked. "I know this is a strange situation for you, but you're safe. Not trusting people… that's rational when you're in this position, but it will make both our lives easier if you show a little more show a little more faith in us. S.H.I.E.L.D. is not evil: We're not going to do you any harm."

I hmph'd at her and kept walking.

_Well me having faith in people has never gotten them anywhere aside from six feet under._

After what seemed like walking forever in the labyrinth of grates, we reached a door that looked just like… all of the other ones.

_I can feel emotions emitting from inside of it. Great— socialization. _I thought darkly.

"Just give us a chance Miss Cain." Romanov said as she turned around and looked at me with her dark blue eyes, masterfully typing a code in the keypad while distracting my with her sudden words. "We're not that bad."

She stepped aside as the door slid to the side soundlessly. The inside of the new room was darker than the hallway. Faint blue squares glowed on what must be the walls. Romanov gestured for me to go in first.

_This place is like one giant gradient. Go from light to dark: bad to worse._

Steeling myself, I entered into the darkness, followed silently by my escort. The doors immediately slid shut, leaving me to face my captors.


	8. Ch 6 Light Is a Place

Ch. 6 … Light Is a Place

"Take a seat Miss Cain." A crisp voice called sharply from in front of the faint glow. I could make out an outline of someone sitting in front of a flat surface.

"I can't see anything." I replied darkly, not bothering to cover up the discontent in my voice.

"Sir, I don't think that keeping the room dark was a good idea. How about turning the lights on?" A soft, male voice spoke gently. I could see a shadow leaning towards another one, so I assumed that that was its origin.

"Oh, come on Steve. Where's your sense of theatricality?" Another voice questioned cheerily.

"There are Midgardian players here?" Came a deep, rumbling voice with a slight accent.

"No Thor," Agent Romanov answered from behind me, "He means making a dramatic first impression. Speaking of which, I agree with Captain Rogers, Sir."

"Well I _would_ have turned them on, but it seems that _someone_ overrode the system." The first voice replied, voice dripping with annoyance. "And I would appreciate it if Mr. Stark would _kindly_ light the room up."

"It's my funhouse we're using. I'm entitled to do little things here and there as payment."

Light flooded the room immediately, searing my eyes. I quickly brought up an arm to cover my eyes and put my aura detection on full alert.

_Joy, mischief, nervousy, a heavy plate of annoyance— nothing I can't handle._

"A little warning next time?" Came a new voice, which sounded somewhat hesitant in speaking. "I might have a grip on… certain things, but I still get a little edgy."

Blinking, I took in the new surroundings.

The glowing blue squares that I had seen were screens that melded into the tan painted walls of the room. There was no furniture with the exception of a huge, round table and the chairs that surrounded it. At the center of it was a large, black and white circle surrounding an eagle, olive branches, and a map with bodies of land marked on the noble bird's chest. Forming a ring around the emblem were the words 'U.N. Strategic Hazard Interpretation and Emergency Logistics Directorate.'

_S.H.I.E.L.D., huh?_

Five people occupied the chairs while another stood.

"Welcome to S.H.I.E.L.D. temporary headquarters Miss Cain. Feel free to sit down." The voice from earlier spoke. The last sentence may have formed a suggestion, but from the way he said it, it sounded like a command.

The voice belonged to the man that sat at the head of the table. He was serious looking— his most noticeable features aside from his dark skin tone being a black leather eye patch over his left eye and the scars that protruded from it. The only hair on his head surrounded his mouth, forming a goatee. His age was a little hard to place, but after analyzing him, I decided that he must be somewhere around sixty. From what little I could see of his clothing, he wore all black.

I felt a nudge on my back as my escort urged me towards the nearest empty seat. Reluctantly, I sat down.

"Good. Now we can take care of the introductions. You've already met Agent Romanov." He gestured to the woman who accused me of having a hand in my friend's murder. "To my right is Captain Steve Rogers."

The speaker's next-seat neighbor was looking at me shyly with a lopsided smile. Rogers's skin shined brightly as it was very pale— in fact, everything about him was light. His eyes were a soft blue and his short hair was sandy blonde. He had bangs, but they were combed to the left of his forehead, swooping up and out of his face. From what I could see of him, he wore a plain white shirt that showed off an extremely well-muscled form. The colors gave him an angelic appearance. He didn't seem all that much older than I was.

_Maybe twenty-one, give or take a year._

"Hello Ma'am." He greeted, nodding lightly. He had an air of gentle politeness about him as he did so.

I merely stared, sizing him up. Captain Rogers shifted under my gaze, a light purple laying over him like snow as he began to feel uneasy.

_He looks fast and, well, someone with that much muscle has to be strong. My chances of getting out of here just keep shrinking._

Noting my lack of response, the man with the eye patch began again.

"Next to Captain Rogers is Thor."

"I am the Mighty Thor Odinson of Asgard— commander of lightning and the wielder of the great weapon Mjolnir." The accented voice from before released itself from the man as he beat his chest and beamed at me in greeting.

_Such warmth… it's hard to resist smiling back. _His happiness was an enticement, floating around him and taunting my unease. I did not grin; however, I felt my mouth even out into a flat line and my eyes lose their edge. _Frak. I can't let my guard down just because they're acting friendly._

Thor had a slightly-past-his-shoulder length blonde mane that remained flat until the ends brushed against his back. It made me feel self-conscious about my own hair, which was still down, water seeping into the shirt I was given. His facial hair consisted of a short beard, soul patch, and mustache. Small eyes shined brightly with blue, jovial irises. Similar to Captain Rogers, Thor was very muscular, yet he appeared leaner. Out of everyone that I could see, he was befitted with the most interesting apparel. He was wearing what seemed to be light body armor. It consisted of a dark silver metal front with lighter adornments that formed simple, curving patterns. Red cloth poked itself out here and there. Thor looked to be a little bit older than me.

…_Perhaps twenty-four, twenty six-ish maybe?_

"Standing behind Thor is Agent Barton. He doesn't talk much."

_He apparently doesn't feel much either._

Stormy blue eyes stared at me with a focused intensity. His blank face was rugged, taking on the shape of a square. At the center of it was a rather large nose, which would have been the subject of my staring had I not been occupied with meeting his calculating gaze— Noses have always fascinated me. His hair was dirty-blonde, short, and gelled up at the front. His uniform seemed to be another variation of Agent Romanov's, sporting black instead of blue and looking much more masculine. I placed him as being anywhere from twenty-eight to about forty-one.

"To my left is Doctor Bruce Banner."

A serious looking man, Doctor Banner nodded awkwardly. It was an extremely slight movement.

"…Hi."

Aside from his demeanor, what struck my attention next was that the doctor seemed very… hairy, in a word.

_It's probably because his hair is so dark._

His locks, unlike everyone else's, were short, yet long enough to form a vortex of curly chaos around his head. It combined nicely with his tan skin. The dark brown irises of his eye stood out against the bright white surrounding them, creating an open, puppy-dog impression upon me; however, his heavy brows and jaw stubble evened out his features. Doctor Banner did not seem muscular— not that his long-sleeved button up was revealing much (which I was okay with.) From the look of him, I guessed that he was in his mid to late forties.

"To the left of the good doctor is… Stark." The eye patch man's voice dropped almost comically, weighed down and dripping with aggravation as he introduced the famous inventor.

"I'm sure that you've heard of me Miss Cain— Tony Stark of Stark Industries? Mastermind, Shawarma lo—"

I stopped listening as I looked him over. I had heard a lot about him, but I had never listened to him speak. Television and I never seemed to get along, so the only glimpses of the man I had ever gotten were at the annoyingly pretentious magazines on the shelves of Arestown Convenience.

_My lans, Stark's exactly like everyone says: He likes to toot his own horn, though he really seems younger in the pictures._

The mastermind behind Stark Industries looked to be in his forties. Small wrinkles had found their way onto his features, though they didn't mar the dashing good looks he was partially famous for. His hair was combed back to keep out of his face, which sported a goatee. His eyes were dark brown, but seemed to contrast with his erratic attention-grabbing behavior: They had a deep seriousness to them. He was dressed casually, wearing an ACDC band tee. An annulus of blue light seeped through the threads of the shirt's fabric bringing attention to Stark's means of cheating death— his magnetic chest plate.

"—And my lovely associate Pepper Potts is doing such a wonderful job setting into motion that piece of work that was, as a matter of fact, a fantastic idea of epic proportions that only a mind as brilliant as mine can create."

_Though he is quite similar to her._ My thoughts wandered out of the room to my dead friend again. I inwardly sobbed/ growled at my inability to resist sentimentality even in a situation as strange as this one. To combat it, I focused on manifesting my frustrations towards my pathetic emotional conflict into a harsh glare.

"Enough Stark." The eye patch man called out. Stark shot him a 'what- me?' expression as the buzzing that I had placed in the back of my mind ceased. Now having my full attention, the head of the table received the full power of my glare. He was not deterred.

"That leaves me. I am Nick Fury, director of S.H.I.E.L.D. I understand that you have some questions, but you're going to have to save them for a different time." He gestured to the screens on the walls. Immediately, the emblem on the table flashed upon them and began spinning.

"Thanks to the Avengers Initiative, the alien onslaught that took place was put to an end and its leader was detained." Pictures of a man with light blue eyes and shoulder-length, black, slicked-back hair glowered out from the screen. A large forehead formed a slightly curved plane above his eyes. He would have looked innocent if not for the sheer hatred that froze any that fell under his icy stare. His mouth was covered by a strange, silver gag, but there was no doubt in my mind that he was scowling underneath it. The man wore apparel similar to Thor's strange outfit— a dominantly green and black ensemble with gold adornments.

_Their outfits' colors clash. I wonder if there's any meaning to that. This man has some interesting aesthetics. He looks like he would make a fascinating portrait subject with all of that emotion._

I jolted as I felt sadness enter the formerly negative-emotion-free zone. It didn't take a great detective to figure out that it was coming from Thor, who looked like a wilting flower.

"This is Loki, Norse god of Mischief from the Asgardian realm and said leader of invasion. He's well-versed in magic and a clever, manipulative bastard to boot."

_Magic? Mutations I understand, but magic?_

"Do not speak of my brother in such a demeaning light!" Thor slammed his fists down upon the table and stood up, causing Doctor Banner and Captain Rogers to jump slightly.

_Brothers? They don't even look alike. I guess anything's possible. So these guys are from Norse mythology? I'm guessing that should mean something to me, but all I can think of is Bacchus getting drunk off his ass and creating Amethyst… I'm pretty sure that's Roman… _Thor's gloom melted in the presence of his white-hot fury. It hurt to be surrounded by such intense anger, but I stubbornly sat back and did nothing. _He gets a little too moody too quick. Seeing as his emotions aren't directed at me, he's not my problem._

"We already went through this last month Thor." Director Fury barked. "Stand down."

Glaring, Thor gradually edged back to his seat. White light still flared around him. Satisfied, Fury continued.

"He was taken back to his home on Asgard by Thor through the use of a portal and power supply known as the Tesseract to face 'Asgardian justice.' That worked for about a month." Pictures of a vivid-blue cube emanating light occupied the screens briefly. I remained silent, but so many questions were burning in the back of my mind. By the time I looked back up at the screen, there was an expanse of sky marred by a misplaced, dark oval shape.

"Yesterday, our systems caught sight of him making an entrance. Loki appeared from nowhere and crash-landed in Arestown, Pennsylvania on the roof of an apartment complex."

_What? Where was I when this happened?_

"It just so happens, Miss Cain, that he collided with the flat space outside of your window. We have evidence confirming that you did indeed have contact with him. Now, does any of this sound familiar?"

I shook my head no, thoroughly confused as I picked up nothing from the room's emotional atmosphere.

"It was obvious that when you brought him in, he was in an intensely weakened state; however, when he left a few short hours later, he was completely back to his old self. According to Thor, even with Loki's Asgardian regeneration system, it would still take at most two days to regain his former capabilities." Director Fury paused a beat. "When he walked out, he left you behind with a tampered memory and the blood of Janna Allsweet on his palms. We need to know what happened in that time span, Miss Cain. The fate of the entire earth rests in our hands. In order to figure out Loki's next plan of attack, we need to figure out why you're still alive."

_How can I not remember something like that_? I thought as various amounts of pity flooded the room.

"I don't think prodding her with words is going to help, sir. Miss Allsweet was her friend. I think all you're doing is hurting her." Captain Rogers said.

_These people are growing on me and I don't like it._

"Well then, what about Thor? You know a decent amount of information about Asgardian magic. Do you think that you can prompt her memories to resurface?" Mr. Stark piped up.

"I am sorry my friends. Of the magic spells my brother propensitizes to use, I know not. We in Asgard have a vast knowledge of magic that Midgardians have no inkling of yet, but Loki's magical ability far exceeds everyone's within the realm save that of the Allfather; however, he favors much darker spells than the Great Odin cares to cast." He looked down, sadness moistening his light blue eyes. "It is my fault that he has chosen such a dark path, and for that I am truly sorry." Sensing misery washing against Thor's heart, I felt sympathy. Thor truly did believe in his words.

_I know how it feels to hurt people unintentionally._

"We aren't done here." Commander Fury broke the temporary silence.

Thor hunched over more and shuffled out of his chair, standing in an attempt to mask how bothered he was at his brother's most recent activities.

When I removed my gaze from the Norse god, I noticed that Mr. Stark was looking at me with a rather smug expression on his face. He opened his mouth to verbalize his thoughts, but Agent Romanov took the floor. He rolled his eyes at the woman for stealing his moment to speak.

"Commander, if I may: She made it clear that she's a mu—"

"She's a mutant Nick— an empath if I remember correctly." Stark interrupted, claiming the moment as a personal victory. He swiveled in his chair to face the one-eyed man with one hand on his chin.

Moods shifted all around the room, making for an extremely uncomfortable atmosphere. I shifted in my seat as my big secret was revealed.

Natasha huffed at Stark. Meanwhile the inventor glowed a victorious gold, overshadowing her aggravated pastel yellow. Colonel Fury was as annoyed as the moment I could first sense him. Thor and Captain Rogers were confused. Agent Barton was shocked. Lastly, bathed in the light of sympathy and curiosity was Doctor Banner.

_Where's the hatred? Where's the disgust and fear? _I glared at every last occupant of the room, waiting for the oh-so familiar emotional readings to glower upon me, but none came. My expression wavered for a second, but I maintained it.

"What is a mutant?" Captain Rogers asked.

"A mutant is a human who was born with a certain gene that gives them… special abilities. They started making their presence known after World War II. You weren't around for that train Captain." Fury answered. His expression didn't change, but he shined with a thin yellow layer of happiness, seemingly happy that he got to educate the soldier.

_He- he said that mutants are humans? Does he not… care whether I am one or not? _I stiffened in my seat. There wasn't any hostility in the room, which worried me. _What's going to happen?_

Thor was buzzing with curiosity, so I expected him to speak up next. The quiet Doctor Banner was actually the one to break the silence.

"What, ah, exactly does being an empath entail?" His spacey, yet intelligent voice inquired. Every aura around me burned amber with the exception of the inventive celebrity.

"Stark, before you open your mouth: Shut up." Fury commanded. Tony leaned back in his chair and looked at me, mouthing the words 'I wasn't going to say anything' using exaggerated expressions and wafting with his hands.

_This is so strange. Where is the surprise? Will I die when I open my mouth? I'm… afraid of these people—afraid of them for not being alarmed by me._

Seeming to sense the direction that my mental dilemma was taking me, the Doctor spoke again.

"We won't look down on you." He promised, a serious expression on his face. "Trust me, we…" He paused for a moment, looking at all of the other figures in the room. Apprehension cocooned itself around him in light purple threads. Everyone else emitted sympathy and understanding.

_I'm missing something here._

Encouraged by their silent feedback, Doctor Banner resumed speaking with confidence. "We each have our own demons to overcome. I know it's hard to believe, but we don't mind mutants or any other kind of person with special abilities here. Take it from me, if S.H.I.E.L.D. wanted you dead, Miss Black Widow there," He gestured to Agent Romanov. "She would have taken you out seconds before you even registered her presence. We're not going to hurt you."

_He doesn't show the guilt of lying… _I took a deep breath and exhaled, looking up at the doctor's brown eyes. _I can trust him. He empathizes with me for some reason. If I look at him and say it, everything will be fine._

"I can act as a… median for emotions. I can sense everything that you feel." I said. Doctor Banner's eyes did not blink. "I can give you mine, or take away yours." Light, joyful hope rose within the man. Why? I did not know. "It's not permanent, as in you'll never be able to feel that emotion ever again, just the emotion that I took away from you at a particular moment… for a little bit."

"Prove this." Thor commanded as he walked towards me.

"B-but—" His pain had reappeared.

_He must have remembered something unpleasant._

"I don't have anything to give you in return. You'll feel empty."

"Please?" He asked, voice lowering a little. The god of thunder looked on me with a morose, pleading expression.

_This man is extremely temperamental… Doctor Banner is right, I'm not dead yet, I can trust these people. I- I'll let my guard down just this once._

Warily, I reached out my hand. Calling forth its essence, the deep blue and maroon colors of anguish were drawn to my hand. Slowly and excruciatingly, it entered into my aura and distributed itself around me. Sharp pain tinged in my heart, but I did not feel the urge to cry.

With his emotions neutralized, Thor looked around the room, meeting each member's gaze and nodding. Satisfied with my work, he clapped me in my back, causing me to let out a small shout.

"She speaks the truth."

"Commander, what would Loki want with an empath?" Captain Rogers asked, leaning forward in his chair.

"Maybe he wants to use her to manipulate Bruce again." Agent Romanov proposed.

"There's that," Stark began, "And much, much more. She can grant energy boosts when implanting positivity in a subject, which explains why Loki was able to recover so quickly. After my wonderful eavesdropping session earlier this afternoon, I took the liberty of researching empaths." He explained. "You didn't really mention that you were one before, but my search led me to the term." He looked at me seriously, the cold of his brown eyes staring through me. "Mercy- I'm just going to call you Mercy, hasn't unlocked her full potential yet." He turned abruptly, facing Fury. "Nick, may I have a private word?"

Fury sat back in his chair for a second, then nodded and got up. The two of them walked out of the room, presenting an opportunity for me to think.

_I knew that I couldn't have been abducted too long ago! Now to figure out where exactly this base is. _My thoughts flipped back to the picture of Loki. _What would anyone want to use me for? I can make people feel like they live a life of eternal sunshine, sure— but that doesn't seems too destructive._ The hate in his eyes made me shiver. _He's the guy that hurt my friend. He's got to be sick. I can't believe that I was in the same room as him... what happened with Thor?_

I became aware of the pairs of eyes that were staring at me. I looked down at the table and rode out the train of thought.

_Who are these people anyway? Yeah, S.H.I.E.L.D., but they all seem so different. The Rogers guy is polite, really polite— unnaturally polite. I like that, but it's weird. _

_Thor is from some place called Asgard. That is certainly an enigma— and the ability to wield lightning: Where does someone get that? I mean, there's that Storm lady with the Xmen, but her appearance lets on that she's a mutant. Something tells me that that's not the case with him. _

_Agent Barton obviously works for the organization full time as does Agent Romanov… Black Widow… I wonder how she came by that name. Fury was pretty forward too._

_Doctor Banner is understanding— a little awkward, but understanding. I wonder what his big secret is. Maybe that's why he's sympathetic-__ Maybe he's a mutant too!_

_Stark… reminds me of Janna— an older, more masculine, and much richer Janna._

_I wonder what we'll bury at her funeral… Is there going to be enough of her left to bury? That sick bastard…_

"How do YOU feel?" Captain Roger's clear voice brought me out of my thoughts and back to the S.H.I.E.L.D. meeting room.

I sighed. He was looking at me with a serious expression. "I don't know. To tell you the truth. A little sad I guess, but that emotion's not mine— at least, not entirely. I don't even completely understand what's going on. Who are you? I get that you work for S.H.I.E.L.D. protecting the earth or whatever, but I'm getting that there's more to this than what you've told me."

"Well, you know what Commander Fury said about New York?"

I nodded.

"We're the Avengers."

"I'm sorry, what?"

"We're the Avengers Initiative Team that the director was talking about." Agent Romanov said as she crossed over to Agent Barton.

"You guys are the superheroes everyone's been talking about? I mean, I know Mr. Stark is Iron Man— but everyone does. I—" I fell silent.

"Well, I guess you can add a couple more names to your… list to remember." Doctor Banner said.

"Like what?"

"Captain America." Steve stated while nodding his head. "Enhanced super-soldier, at your service."

"Black Widow. She's a menace when you're up against her." Agent Barton spoke for the first time, gesturing to Agent Romanov.

"Hawkeye." She said while jabbing him in the side. "— A master archer."

"Thor Odinson!" Thor crowed.

"…the Hulk." Doctor Banner said firmly, much unlike earlier. "I transform into a giant, destructive beast when I get angry."

"But he's always angry, so it's okay." Stark threw in as he entered the room with Commander Fury, who stopped to my right.

"Miss Cain, due to the threat of Loki, you're not going back to Arestown."

"But what about Janna's funeral?" I asked, dismayed.

"It's something you're going to have to skip out on. She wouldn't want you in the hands of Loki, would she? Right. So, in the meantime, you're going to have to stay somewhere else. Mr. Stark has offered to provide housing for you in Stark Tower, should you choose to accept it. Each of the Avengers has their own room up there, so you would be protected—"

"And in good company." Stark added. Fury rolled his eye.

"Otherwise, you can stay down here. It's a secret location with plenty of agents capable of looking after you."

I shuddered at the thought of walking amongst the dark grated arena daily. The thought of living in the day amongst familiar faces was much more enticing than being in this strange place among changing strangers.

"I'll accept Mr. Stark's offer."

"Excellent." Stark exclaimed, clapping his hands together.

"All of you are assigned to help Miss Cain. No, I don't mean wait on her— I mean help her unlock her abilities. Stark has a theory or two that could be not only beneficial to us, but to you as well Miss Cain." He paused as though he wanted to say something else, but instead went with, "Dismissed— Show Miss Cain upstairs."

_Miss Cain, Miss Cain, Miss Cain. I hate that. I'm right here._

"Right this way." called Stark as he strolled out of the room and into the dark labyrinth of metal. Reluctantly, I followed as did the other room occupants.

Our destination was only a short ways off. Stark typed in a code next to another generic sliding door, revealing a set of stairs that was painted red. He glided up them and waited for me with an excited smile. When I made it up, I emerged into light. It hurt a little, having traveled in the dark again, but I was getting used to the feeling. We were on a balcony made of glass that reflected the sun's bright rays, making for a gorgeous sight.

"Welcome to Stark Tower Mercy Cain."

**Author's note: ****Thank you for reading it. If anyone's OOC, let me know right now with a review, because I'm trying to avoid that. I did take a few liberties, but I'm mixing info about the comics, the movies, and the actors themselves throughout the story. Review this. Interact with me. It's discouraging when you have a bunch of canon characters and no one will tell you whether or not they seem OOC. That's what the review option is for. Tell me what you don't like about this if you don't like it. If you don't want to keep reading the story, tell me why. I'm trying to make this enjoyable.**

**And yes, I have the next few chapters typed up, but I want to know if I have everyone's characters down before I post.**


	9. Ch 7 I'm Afraid of Heights or

Ch. 7: I'm Afraid Of Heights or Rushing Closure: You Can Call Me Steve

The sky was a milky orange, an effect created by the wispy clouds. The sun shined brightly through them, giving them a yellow outline (or silver if you like that one saying.) - At least, they looked yellow to me.

There were large structures emerging in rectangular shapes from the minds of genius architects past. They were the marvels of the city, or at least to someone who had never really been to one before: skyscrapers. Light from the sun reflected on the glassy surfaces of their windows, only adding to their splendor.

From below came the sounds of cars, buildings, loud music, people's voices, and all kinds of other things. From where I was standing, everything aside from the skyscrapers seemed so small, yet so noticeable. There were bright colors from screens, public art, cars, and signs. Colors that would usually seem dull were bathed in the bright sunlight, and I'm not sure if it's that I've never been to a place like this before or what, but it made them seem exciting. There were animated moving dots bobbing from place to place, people trying to get to and from their jobs and homes.

_Those cars are yellow. My lans! Taxis, So many people… this is incredible!_

Eventually, my eyes landed on where I was standing.

_Floating on air…_

A glassy, see-through surface was preventing me from plunging to my untimely death. The thought made me grateful and extremely nervous at the same time. I stepped back a bit, unable to look up.

"Perhaps I should say welcome to New York instead. You don't seem too keen on turning around and actually looking at what really matters. That stuff's not great anyway. Look behind you if you want to see a _real _work of art and progression worth appreciating." Stark was completely unaware of my panic.

"Mr. Stark, may I," I paused, trying to breathe. "May I just stand here? I'm a little bit shaky from… all this."

I developed a fear of heights on the night that I ran away from home. I used the classic 'tie stuff together and climb down from the window' escape method, but I wasn't that great at planning ahead. My 'rope' was about four feet shorter than I wanted it to be. That might not seem like a lot, but I was small then. When I decided to drop, I let go and landed painfully on my side. I have never been able to look at slides, ledges, or over edges ever again without feeling queasy.

_There are a lot of people standing on this platform at the moment… a lot of weight… If it broke off, we would all fall. Gosh that would suck. That scenery would be a lot less pretty with a bunch of new stains on it…_

Stark let out a "Hah," sardonically as his feet came into view. "I offer to take a lady out of the creepy agency headquarters so that she could live in my tower and she won't even look at it." He put a hand on my shoulder.

"I'm afraid of heights, Mr. Stark," I deadpanned. "That's a long way down. This- can this platform support everyone standing here?" I could feel the paranoia heating my blood. A warm hand touched my back, retreated a little at the slight dampness leftover from my hair, then planted itself as the grip on my arms tightened a little.

"…What if I told you we were the only ones standing on this?"

I looked up to see him staring at me, our faces level.

"Go ahead and look behind you. Everybody else already went in. We decided to be nice and not bother you while you were distracted from my tower." He then lowered his voice. "Or at least I did until a little bit ago." He changed his tone and quickly began again. "Relax. I made this tower—this platform. It wouldn't be here if I couldn't have a large group of people standing on it. The only way you'll fall from here is if I throw you over, which, by the way, I _do not_ plan on doing."

"May I take some of your calmness?" I asked. Stark's eyes were blank as I searched them for an answer.

He was apprehensive, that was for sure. It seemed as if his essence was calling out to me, taunting me in my near-trembling state.

_You ask permission because I am not yours. Weak. Take me, I am here. I am the relief you crave. _Were the words I imagined the gray light egging me on, pulling me towards Stark. I bit my lip. It really sucks to be on the negative side of the emotional magnet.

"Have at it." Was his short reply.

I closed my eyes as I felt the swift rush of sweet serenity and indifference flood my system, warm and tingling across my skin.

"Thank you." I breathed as I relaxed. Stark let me go, stood back a bit, and eyed me up.

"Incredible." He said, raising a hand to his chin. "I mean, that is extremely uncomfortable and strange— not meaning you, rather, the sensation. Absolutely incredible. Now turn around. I can't take this anymore." Stark stepped towards me, turning me around. "Stark Tower. Look at it. I've been good—Patient even. Just look Mercy."

"Cain."

"I can stand on my own, thanks."

I rolled my eyes at his pun. His arm obscured my vision as he pointed, so I just nodded and said, "Uh-huh. I'm looking."

"And?"

"It's…great." I said, trying to come up with an adjective to describe what I couldn't see. Mr. Stark's aura dropped from excitement to disappointment.

"Just great? Miss Mercy, this is the first building in the history of the world to be powered by one hundred percent green energy alone." You could hear the fake pout in his voice.

"Congratulations?" Stark threw his hands up in the air, looked at me, looked at the building, then started taking fast, short steps towards it.

"She's impressed by the dirty city, but not my beautiful, clean tower. I never thought that I'd say this: but what have I brought upon myself?" He muttered under his breath. Looking at me, he asked, "Are you coming?"

"What?"

"Well you're not going to be living out here, _especially_ with your fear of heights. That, and your mild disinterest reminded me of some projects that Pepper wanted me to finish— you'll meet her soon. We're going inside."

Indoors, Stark weaved through the classy yellow hallways. I did my best to follow him, but he moved awfully fast.

"Mr. Stark, could you please slow down? Where are we going?

"You're following me?"

"Well seeing as I have no idea where I'm supposed to go and you seem keen on showing this place off, yes."

"Well I gave up on that. JARVIS?"

"Yes sir?" An electronic voice piped up. I looked around, searching for its source, but didn't find anything.

Stark leaned over to me and whispered, "Robot butler— another ingenious design of mine. Just tell him what you want: He'll get right on it. I'll be damned if you find better service anywhere else." then resumed his regular stance. He rocked back on his heels, folding his hands behind his back. "Would you please take Mercy—"

"Mr. Stark, I'd prefer it if you call me Cain."

"Take Miss Mercy to a cleared guest room."

If I were a bird, my feathers would be so ruffled in agitation right now. "I just asked you to call me Cain."

Stark turned to me and pointed. "And I just ignored you. Now, do not follow me. JARVIS will take care of everything."

"but—"

"Ciao." He flicked out his hand in a curt wave as he walked away.

I watched in disbelief as he left me behind.

"So…your name is JARVIS?" I questioned the air.

"Yes Miss Cain. Shall I guide you to your room?"

"I guess. There's not really much I can do, not knowing this place."

JARVIS was quite efficient at his duties. He guided me through the yellow and white hallways, up many flights of stairs, and past multiple, curious-looking metal entryways. The further away from my origin, the more normal the doors became until I stood in front of a burgundy wooden door with a gold-colored knob.

"We have arrived at your room Miss Cain."

"Ah… thank you JARVIS." I said awkwardly, trying to get over that I was talking to a disembodied voice in Stark Tower.

"Of course Miss Cain." Most others residing within Stark Tower tend to eat within the hour. If you would like, I could guide you to the kitchen or any other where you need to be. Please call my name should you require any further assistance."

_This is so weird. When is now anyway? It's light out still, though the sun is sinking._

"JARVIS, what time of day is it?"

"It is seven twenty-six in the evening Miss Cain."

"Thank you JARVIS."

My eyes widened a bit as I turned the doorknob and pushed open the door.

_They interrogate me, knock me out, take me to New York, wait for me to come to, confront me, let me get lost in Stark's Tower and it's ONLY SEVEN TWENTY SIX? My lans, these people work fast!_

I shook my head as I walked inside the room, greeted by an 'I'm not lived in,' impersonal, cleaner smell. I noted a bathroom with a stack of toiletries that I may need to my left.

There was a large bed extending towards the middle of the room from the center of the right wall. To the left of it was a light, wooden desk decorated with a lamp. Noting movement nearby and an emotional signal nearby, I backed up a bit.

Fifteen seconds later, a formally dressed woman with strawberry blonde hair stood up. Briskly, she walked over to me and held out her hand, a controlled smile on her face. Her aura, on the other hand, hinted that she wasn't too happy to see me. I took her hand and shook it briefly, lightly smiling as I did so.

"Pepper Potts," she spoke as her dark blue eyes looked directly into mine. Her tall height and sharp manner of dressing made for effective intimidation factors. After her gaze diverted to my neck, her slight hostility and annoyance at my presence turned into relief and her smile seemed more real. "Tony told me that you'd be coming. I understand that you don't have any clothes with you so I, well, they might be a little big for you, but I placed some of my old clothes in your drawer. I've been really busy recently, but we can go shopping for some new ones that will fit better eventually." She spoke concisely then paused. In the brief silence, my stomach growled.

Her relief was then speckled with light blue and yellow, like happy jimmies on top of a vanilla-yellow sundae: She thought it was funny. Sometimes I wish that I could get a decent look at my own emotional spectrum— to see the colors swirling around my being. That moment's particular palette must have been an interesting mix of murky, embarrassed hues.

"Are you hungry? I could—"

"I'm fine Miss Potts. Thank you for the clothes." I looked down at the ground, heat still on my cheeks. "I'd just like to be alone for a little bit, if that's alright."

"It's fine. I understand."

"It was nice meeting you." I called as she walked out the door and shut it. I received no answer.

As soon as I heard the click, I sat on the bed and stared at the windowless walls. As my thoughts usually do when I'm alone, they wandered off to the darker recesses of my subconsciousness, calling upon serious thoughts.

_It hasn't even been a full day and yet so much has happened._

Of course I was thinking about Janna. When you lose someone important to you, no matter the thoughts of them perhaps moving on to a heavenly paradise, you still feel loss. You vainly want that person to come back to a place that they no longer belong to. That's not a feeling that goes away quickly, no matter the confusing whirlwind of circumstances that impedes on your already distraught, emotional, wreck of a soul.

_However it happened, it's my fault. _I thought as I stared at the wall. _I let the madman in my apartment. I… helped him._

_Goddamnit... _I punched the bed.

_He's probably the reason why my necklace is gone too._

I fell back on the bed as a mental image of Janna's apartment occupied my mind, trying to land with enough force to shove it out. I felt warmth around my eyes again.

_I am sick of this God-awful depression._ I lifted myself off the bed and slammed down again, trying to remove the thoughts— the sadness, with the impact. Instead, I began imagining her wake. I imagined her bloodless, beautiful body wrapped up in a long black dress. It wouldn't have been skimpy, but it would still look flirtatious. Her hair would be down, soft black waves washing over her shoulders and resting behind her back. Someone would have been considerate enough to place flowers in her folded hands. They wouldn't be roses, with meanings of lust, emptiness, or friendship— they would be tulips, the symbol of true, infinite love.

I imagined Raoul looking over her with tears in his eyes. I _can_ see his side of the breakup scenario- I mean, I'm an _empath_. Despite that, I would not talk to him as I walked by, standing next to her, and placing the necklace that I no longer had around her neck.

All of the sudden, she would smile and open her eyes yelling, "Surprise! You've just been P-U-N-K'D!" Then she'd kiss Raoul with all that she had and run out of the building cackling like a mad-woman.

_But that's not going to happen._

I shook my head again, this time picturing her smiling.

"_Never underestimate time constraints, Ms. Cain! Makeup and the right clothes never hurt anyone as far as I'm aware. Besides, a woman should always strive to look her best."_

"_A very merry unbirthday—"_

"…"

"_Oh, come on Cain— you've gotta work with me here. It's not a 'very merry unbirthday' if you don't sing the Unbirthday Song!"_

"_To me?"_

"_Thatsthespirit— TO YOU~_

_A VERY merry unbirthday—"_

_We toasted, tapping chocolate bars that Janna bought together as we sang into the night._

I felt a small thread of something hot roll out of the corner of my eye towards my right ear.

_Frak._

**Whatever happened to 'No more tears?' Toughen up, you're stronger than this.**

My subconsciousness encouraged me to sit up just as I felt an apprehensive aura approach the door. Shortly afterwards, light knocking interrupted my state of quiet contemplation. I instinctively went to look through a peephole that wasn't on the door. Sighing at the lack of hallway surveillance, I opened the door to be greeted by Captain Rogers's light smile.

"Good evening Miss Cain." He said, nodding.

"Hello Captain Rogers." I replied, slightly shocked that he came to visit. If anyone was to come and knock on my door, I figured it would be Agent Romanov. I read him over. He was nervous— nervous and slightly happy. "Can I help you with something?"

"No, Miss Potts mentioned that you might be hungry seeing as you haven't eaten for awhile. If you are," He looked down then back up at me uncomfortably. "I could escort you to the kitchen."

At his words, my stomach growled. I flushed a little as he smiled in understanding.

"I think my stomach just answered for me."

"Alright then." He said, offering me his arm.

I just stared at him suspiciously. No one's ever offered me their arm before. I wasn't sure if he was making fun of me or if he was being serious. I had no idea how to react. His aura didn't hint at any mischief or guilt.

He began to retract his limb, looking dejected while I felt his aura fly south.

The thing about standing so close to people, about socializing, is that I'm susceptible to their sentiments whether I want to be or not. When there's a bit of distance, I feel less compelled to intervene. 'Strangers' emotional garbage is none of my business,' my mind says. My heart, however, reaches out to them. It's the curse of the empath— to be sympathetic towards others- to know and feel their plights. When I saw the blue gloom of rejection frost Captain Rogers's eyes a deeper blue, I felt my power calling out to him— dragging my body towards his.

_Ah, the human desire to wallow in self-pity— it beckons._

Strings of blue were beginning to ebb from him when I developed a different thought. _Why not just grab his arm like he wants? _A rather novel idea I'd say, and that's exactly what I did.

Immediately Captain Rogers's aura lifted and he looked at me— first with shock, then with a light smile.

"Shall we then?" I asked, pleased with my conclusion.

"We shall." He answered.

And for awhile, those were the only words spoken between us as we walked through the halls. In the meantime, I was busy trying not to be embarrassed from my lack of arm-holding experience— a stupid thing to worry about, I know, but it kept me distracted from more dismal thoughts. His arm was firm muscle, about the width of two of mine next to one another. Taller than me by almost two of my heads, I felt very small standing next to him. He seemed perfectly confident in his stride, yet his nervousness was steadily increasing. I almost offered to take it away, but he spoke before I had the opportunity.

"Miss Cain, what you've gone through— it's unforgiveable what Loki did to your friend. Something… similar happened to me a long time ago. If, if you need help coping— like you need someone to talk to, I'll listen. I highly don't recommend drinking."

"I can assure you Captain Rogers, I won't be seeking any help via bottle. I've seen the effects that it can cause and they are not welcome. I'm under age anyway."

He looked at me with raised eyebrows, a frown on his light face.

"Really?"

"Yes. Did you think I was older?"

"It's not right for a man—" He started scrunching his brows in embarrassment and looking off to the side.

"It's ok. I'm twenty, so you weren't too far off." I said. A light silence fell between the two of us again. Captain Rogers's aura was a quagmire of watered down browns, purples, and pinks due to his mood-dampening embarrassment. To try and distract him, I prodded him with, "So why did you offer to take me to the kitchen. I could have asked JARVIS."

He looked shocked, then bathed in discomfiture all over again, his arm stiffening a bit.

"And yet you didn't... JARVIS makes me uncomfortable. I came from a place that didn't have technology like that." He stated looking at me.

_Odd how he's using past tense._

"Me too." I nodded in agreement.

_A disembodied voice that sees and hears everything that goes on inside Stark Tower isn't exactly something that calms the nerves._

The captain's eyes crinkled as he smiled and chuckled a little, his face brightening up with cheeriness.

"Well, I'm sure my situation is different from yours."

"Where are you from then? What makes it so different?"

"It's not really where I'm from, but when." He said, looking down at me.

"I'm afraid I don't understand."

"I was actually born on the Fourth of July back in nineteen twenty-two."

"I call bull."

_He's making fun of me dammit._

"No, it's true. When I was twenty-one, I was accepted into the army to fight during World War II. I was part of an experiment to create the perfect soldier— the ultimate weapon to use against the Nazi forces. It turned out that we had to worry about a different scoundrel who set his sights on the world by the name of Red Skull. I foiled his plot for world domination, but… in the process I wound up being preserved in ice for about seventy years. The Colonel sort of mentioned it earlier."

'_They started making their presence known after World War II. You weren't around for that train Captain.'— Well now that statement makes more sense. Gosh, he's got to be around ninety. I thought my situation was bad. Maybe I should open up a bit…_

"We're here." Captain Rogers said abruptly. "Excuse me." He removed his arm from my light grip and reached forward, opening the door. "After you Miss Cain."

_This explains so much. _I thought as I smiled and said, "Thanks." _he boys back home weren't this nice— Not even Devin. _I mused as I thought back to my second relationship.

The kitchen itself was small, featuring the necessities (much fancier than what I was used to) and much more. The walls were a bright, slightly off-white color. The kitchen appliances were shades of tan and red that made everything in the room seem more enticing to use.

_Ah, psych influence using colors—you shall never cease to amaze me._

Captain Rogers crossed to the center of the room, where a cream island was located. He leaned on it, watching me as I took in my surroundings.

"Where can I find some plates?"

"I'll get them." He answered. "Glasses too. What would you like to drink?"

"I'll just have water. You don't need to worry about me, I can take care of myself from here."

"Alright." He flashed another one of his light smiles. All apprehension was gone, but he was a little morose. Discreetly, I called his negative blues away. He had proven himself worthy of my trust. After the blue surrounded me, thee small amount of food that I placed on my plate suddenly seemed unappetizing and heavy in my grasp.

"So you _can_ absorb emotions," Realizing what I had done, Captain Rogers came over with his plate full of food and placed his hand on my shoulder, looking at me with a straight face and dark concern in his eyes. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine— trust me, I've been through worse." I said, brushing off his hand.

"Well… Follow me then."

Going through an opening in the kitchen, we walked into a lounge. Red comfy-looking couches were cluttered around glass coffee tables, facing a large TV. The walls were a dark, bluish gray. Yellow lights draped from the ceiling reflected off of the glass that made up the right wall. The carpeting was uncomfortable-looking, but I suppose that's why there were couches. Selecting a spot close to the glass wall, I set my plate down and began nibbling at the food. Captain Rogers sat down next to me, folding his hands and sitting in silence for about a minute, then began eating as well.

"You don't eat much, do you?" He questioned, gesturing to my plate consisting of a red apple… and caramel that I found. (What can I say, I love apples… and I don't get to have caramel that often. I actually felt kind of guilty that I was eating someone else's food.) "I wouldn't really consider that dinner if you don't mind me saying."

"Are you kidding me? This is a huge meal!" I replied, dropping the knife that I had been using to cut some more apple slices.

He was silent for a bit, as if remembering something. Immediately, he relaxed and backed off. Taking a break from conversation, we munched on our food. I didn't really like the brand of caramel that Stark had, but it was still nice to try it. My apple didn't last too much longer. I started fidgeting with the questions I wanted to ask until—

"Captain Rogers?"

"Yes Miss Cain?" He asked as he placed his fork at the edge of his plate, finally finished.

"How old were you when what you said happened? Did you at least get to see the end of the war?"

He looked at me seriously. Pain.

"I'm sorry. You don't have to answer if you don't—"

"Twenty-two. I woke up in a S.H.I.E.L.D. base last year before finding out that the war had ended. It's fine. I've missed a lot, but I'm catching up." He said, flashing a half-grin.

And it was that moment that Stark walked in, mischief morphing his aura into what looked like a cat.

"I can see that. Already moving in on the new-girl?" He turned to me, pointing at Captain Rogers. "He's a real lady-killer, that one. You'd best stay away from him. Now if you'd like a gentlemen—"

I felt heat on my cheeks as the captain stood up and marched over to Stark, the white light surrounding him almost blinding.

"Stark, I do not appreciate your attempts to slander my name. I am not like you— never forget that."

"Oh, how could I ever 'Mr. Goody Iputwaaaaytomuchfaithinpeopl e Twoshoes?'" He then poked his head around Captain Roger's muscled frame and called out to me loudly:

"Sorry Mercy dear, you may be a ginger, but you're a bit too skinny for my tastes. I think Steve here agrees— my mistake."

_WHAT?_ I didn't believe for a second that any flirtation had occurred (seeing as I am incapable of doing so and Janna said that I was hopeless when it came to picking up on such things 'unless it was spelled out in bright, flashing lights on a giant, neon, billboard that someone forced you to look at.') The mere suggestion embarrassed me. Stark was also in the process of thoroughly confusing me, making everything worse.

Captain Rogers grabbed Stark's arm tightly. "That's ENOUGH from you STARK. If you're just here to hound me, then leave."

Stark just cocked his head and raised an eyebrow, slumping in posture. "Ah, Steve— I think that you're forgetting that this is my house. Let go, I need to talk to Miss Mercy over there." He lifted his head, gesturing sharply to me.

Huffing, Captain Rogers let him go. Stark nasty look with a twisted smile and crinkled eyes as he walked by. Reclining next to me, he gestured to the victim of his mockery and whispered, "See what I mean? Total prick— NOW, Miss Mercy-"

"Cain."

"I'm sitting at the moment, I don't need one."

I opened my mouth to argue, but Stark covered it up with his hand.

"Uhp-buh-bup! Let me finish." He retracted his hand as I sat back, subdued by his erratic behavior. "Doctor Banner, Natasha, and I sat down together earlier. We'd like to have a chat with you tomorrow concerning your abilities— Just a bit of Q and A: Maybe a bit of practice, except everyone will be involved in that part. I figured that I'd give you the night off seeing as…" He shook his hands and looked around the room exaggeratingly. "So- yeah, bring your chipper, smiling face." He said as he lightly tapped my cheek and adopted a serious tone, pointing with his hand close to his face:

"You kids behave."

Then he darted out of the room quickly, and rightly so, because Captain Rogers was pale with anger.

Immediately after Stark left, the captain resumed sitting next to me, looking at me with serious eyes.

"Miss Cain, I was not trying to do anything perverse to you. I'm not like that. I am so sorry about Stark."

"It's fine. I have to say, I was exhausted as soon as he set foot in the room, so I didn't catch the first few things he said. I believe you."

"Oh, well- good." The words stumbled out of his mouth awkwardly.

_Oh dear. Just what I need— another person to hound me about my almost transparent love-life. I wonder what questions I'm going to have to answer? Do I get to ask them? I'm probably going to have to play lab rat. I don't know if I'm ready for any of that. I'm not meant to be an experiment. Argh— what if they ask something personal? Maybe I could—_

**You can't force closure. **My inner mind reminded me.

_Well I can try._

"Captain Rogers?" I asked after his aura's rage stopped calling out to me— I think I did a good job avoiding taking that train wreck.

"Call me Steve."

"Alright. Then you can call me Cain." He nodded. I mentally sighed, happy that I could stop saying 'Captain Rogers.' It was getting annoying.

"Would you still be willing to listen?

"Of course."

That night, as I stared up at the ceiling from my bedroom, I remembered Janna— no longer as a corpse; but rather, as the bright and smiling first hope that blessed my life.

I thought about Steve and his best friend Bucky, his sweetheart Peggy Carter, and all of the others lost to him because of his noble actions. We even traded back stories… although I omitted some details from mine…

Not a single thought was spent on what tomorrow would be like because I had finally come to terms with what had happened today.

Closing my eyes, I let myself fall into the deep comforting warmth of the blankets cocooned around me and the darkness of the room.

_Sleep well for now wench._

_ I will have you._

_ Do you understand? _

_ You WILL fall to my whims._

_ Those pathetic wretches can only protect you for so long. _

_ Enjoy your security _

_ and __sleep well…_

_ For now…_

**Author's note: Hey. I was waiting for reviews on chapter six so that I could prevent the little cherubs from being out of character. Recently, some kind souls did just that. I love all of the people who have reviewed this story thus-far. Thank you so much for your input, critiques, and patience. I don't own the Unbirthday Song (although I do love it.)**


	10. Ch 8 Q & A

Ch. 8 Q & A

_Sleep well…_

The two syllables ghosted past my ears in a whisper.

The words themselves were harmless. It was the voice murmuring them lightly that made me shiver. The menace of the melodic voice poisoned their meaning. My surroundings suddenly held a hint of danger in them. I only vaguely remember climbing up rocks in an attempt to lose the pursuing speaker, but as I do with some dreams, I forgot the rest.

"Miss Cain, please do be careful. You're about to—"

A sharp pain in my nose brought me out of my thoughts. It began to burn with ache as my eyes watered.

_No cursing._

_Urgh, that hurts, hurts, hurrrrts…_

I reached up and massaged the bridge of my nose, as if that would help.

"Are you alright?"

"Yes JARVIS, I'm good." I said nasally.

I was on my way to Stark's meeting with JARVIS's guidance, but the dream I had— or at least what little I could remember of it, distracted me from noticing the wall that was clearly right in front of my face. It wouldn't have been that bad if not for the voice. It was a man's, lightly accented— not too deep, but not high either. It sounded so real too. Usually when I dream up conversations my mind fuzzily links together meanings, but never have I ever heard a voice sound so clearly.

"May I inquire as to what has you so distracted Miss Cain?"

_I'm too worked up over a meaningless dream. It's all just my twisted subconscious._

"Nothing JARVIS, I'm just tired. Did Stark give any reason as to why he had to have this meeting so early in the morning?"

"Mr. Stark is on an extremely busy schedule today." The electronic voice paused. "He actually plans on keeping to it today, so he must have the meeting early. He holds this event in high regard: Mr. Stark is not an individual you see prancing about with a smile on his face during the mornings."

I sighed, the pain in my nose finally gone. My spaciness might also be attributed to the loud alarm that I woke up to at about four thirty in the morning. The absence of such uproars post slumber had been nice, even if it was only brief. I quickly scrambled into the overly large clothes that Pepper gave me and found a hairband in my bathroom goody bag. I quickly pulled my hair back into a loose bun before I was out the door.

"So do you know anything about this meeting JARVIS?"

"No Miss Cain."

_Arghhhhhh— I want to eat. How long is this supposed to take?_

**I'm not that hungry. I had a later-than-usual dinner complete with caramel to dip it in. **My subconsciousness reminded itself.

"You are here Miss Cain." JARVIS said as a gray sliding door opened to my right.

"Thank you JARVIS." I said as I lightly reached my hand out towards the room.

_Four auras—who's missing?_

I walked in, met with bright lights and a large amount of cityscape. In front of me was a great in size, black table with many chairs set before a wall of glass. The other walls of the room were a dark blue , the carpet a maroon color. The chairs added a bit of brightness to the room with their light, silvery tint. The same could not be said about most of their occupants. Sitting present was Stark, Dr. Banner, Thor, and Steve, each looking particularly tired, their watered-down grumpy and confused auras confirmed that.

_It seems that I'm not the only one who dislikes being up early. _I thought as I took a seat next to Banner. _Good. Misery loves company. Nice to know I'm not suffering alone._

"Where are Agent Romanov and… I don't remember his name…?"

"They're in Africa, but we don't know that." Stark answered, winking with suggestion.

"Why?"

"They're S.H.I.E.L.D. agents Mercy. You know the stereotypes you think of when someone says 'spies?' Think of every single one of them at the same time, then amplify the professionalism and explosion percentage by five hundred. Tasha and Clint are off doing that."

"Oh… Give me a second to mentally digest that, I'm tired." I let it slide that Stark called me by my first name, being in no mood to argue.

"Good Morning Cain."

"Hi Steve."

"The most glorious of mornings it would certainly be." Thor nodded, rubbing his eyes. "Surely it shall be productive."

I smiled weakly then caught a movement out of the corner of my eye. As I looked, Dr. Banner wore a disappointed expression.

_He must have gestured while I was looking away._

"Good morning Doctor Banner." I said, making sure to grab his attention and let him know that I did see him… sort of.

"Alright, are the pleasantries over? I want sleep, you guys look like you'd cringe at the sight of the sun, except for you Thor… good for you buddy. Let's get some of this family bonding done and over with." Stark leaned back in his chair, folding his hands.

"Now Mercy, as I said yesterday, I investigated your ability and came across the subject of empaths. Now, we all know that the inter-web is a glut of information— that's what I have to work with. From what I've gathered, you have the capability to do much, much more than what you have been. My theory is that Loki somehow figured that out— as to how, I'll be asking you buddy," Stark said, leaning over briefly to Thor who nodded in reply. "But for now, we need to discover how much of the information that I dug up is true. You know how sometimes people get in on something and get all hippie-dippy about it? A lot of people across the world believe that they are empaths— they're the ones that decided to create the sites. I assume, however, that their cases are a little different from yours. The purpose of this, Mercy, is to get the facts straight. Are you ready for some questions?"

_My lans, he's being serious. _My thoughts surfaced in the pool of monotonous disbelief sleep drowned them in. _So he isn't difficult all of the time?_

"Yes."

"Alright then— How do you feel right now?"

I wanted to laugh at his simple first question.

"Tired."

"How do we feel right now?" Asked Doctor Banner.

I looked over my new peers quickly, not really needing to get a reading, but checking just in case.

"Like you wish you were asleep. Right now, you're all a pink muddle of confusion, no longer grumpy. The light is watered down, so you're not actually confused— you just have a mild variation of it because you're still working on waking up."

"Well that's puzzling. I'm afraid I didn't really understand any of that. You said color, particularly pink, which is disturbing on so many levels—" Stark began.

"There is nothing wrong with the color pink— It's natural and takes a man to accept!" I said angrily, thinking back to an acquaintance I had back during high school who was bullied because of his wardrobe and color preferences. After months of feeling a negative aura surrounding him and resisting the urge to withdraw it, he attempted to take his own life. Luckily, he failed and recovered quickly. No one bothered him after that. He was my first lesson in what failure to intervene emotionally could lead to. I shuddered a bit at the memory.

Steve looked at me understandingly, sympathy reaching its invisible arms towards my senses. I had shared this story with him. He didn't exactly share my views about the boy, but Steve did agree that it was wrong for people to bully no matter what the victim is like. It's just plain wrong. Thor and Banner didn't understand, but kept quiet. Stark was shocked .

"… Well ok then. I'm not going to ask where that little outburst came from; however, I am going to ask you to explain the whole color-light thing."

"You all have a certain air about you— an aura. It follows you everywhere you go and is unique to everyone. There's not really an emotion that makes it distinctive, it's more like your soul is responsible for that part— your aura is where I look to read your emotions. Each emotion takes the on form of a light. It radiates multiple colors, like…" I paused, trying to pick some emotions. _This is so much easier to connect in my head than to say out loud. _"As I said, pink is confusion, but happiness is bright yellow and light blue."

"Sky blue or light blue?"

"What does that matter?" I asked, confused.

"It doesn't, but I want to know whether or not you agree with the Aloyarc Art Supplies Company— Why put _sky blue _in the pencil box instead of _light blue_? You're supposed to save the obscure colors for the large sets. Is light blue not normal? Why? Is it just not good enough for the small box?" Steve and Doctor Banner were quickly annoyed. Thor, on the other hand, was confused as Mr. Stark continued on with his rant, shrugging, tapping the desk, and saying everything with a ridiculously straight face. "I didn't find out that there was an _actual _light blue Aloyarc pencil until _last year._ Why not call sky blue light blue and light blue sky blue? The sky is closer to light—"

"Tony." Dr. Banner interrupted. "Stop."

"Right. Sorry. Go on." Stark said apologetically, edging back in his seat. His body language suggested disinterest, but his eyes flared, the question still burning behind the brown irises.

"Alright." I was a little surprised by Stark's goofy outburst, but I recovered quickly and began again. "The glow is like a translucent film that covers your body. Sometimes the emotion is very light, forming a skin-tight layer. When the feeling's stronger, the colors will float around you loosely, sometimes manifesting themselves into a large shape." I thought back to last night and felt my cheeks burn lightly. I looked to Dr. Banner and Thor.

"For example, Steve and I were eating dinner together peacefully last night. Next thing you know, I sensed mischief prowling nearby. It definitely wasn't coming from Steve, rather, it was from a much more malevolent source." I narrowed my eyes at Stark.

"So I'm the bad guy?" He replied, amused.

"As Stark just hinted, it was him. He walked in the room spouting off nonsense with an orange cat looming over him."

"What?" Everyone asked simultaneously. It was one of those rare happenings that you just have to laugh at, so I did.

"Mischievousness is orange. I can't explain the cat thing."

"Oh."

"Lady Cain," Thor spoke up. "Are you only able to see us in the colors of our humors or do they shine opaquely over our natural features?"

Curiosity burned from the others as well at the question. The amber color was there the whole time, but for some reason, Thor's question triggered the most attention.

_What does that matter? Are they really worried that I see walking blobs of red or blue?_

"You have blonde hair and blue eyes Thor. Your shirt is different from the one you wore yesterday and it's light-colored."

Thor had swapped out his armor for an off-white, short sleeved button-up.

_And what a total contrast it is to yesterday's attire._

"As you say then." He nodded, beaming dazzlingly. "Now for another," He leaned forward on his elbows, unintentionally drawing my attention to his muscles. I gulped a little at their size. "Are you able to feel our emotions or merely see them?"

"I can if I do a transfer."

"Forgive me Lady Cain. My intention was to question about whether or not you are able to while the emotions are still with another being."

"Oh, well… not normally. It really depends on how intense the emotions really are." _And how I'm feeling._ "How close I'm standing towards other people is another factor at play. Happiness is always soft, warm, and really tempting to steal away. Emptiness is cold and rough. Sadness almost hurts in a burning kind of way— it calls out to me the most. Anger and annoyance sometimes buzz, vibrating. It's very uncomfortable."

Stark's essence briefly lit up with playful mischief as he smirked, although he said nothing.

_What's so funny? I must have missed it. _I shrugged slightly and continued.

"Your moods constantly summon my attention, but sometimes I need to look harder— to get a reading and make sure that what's calling me is the feeling that I think it is. Not everyone is an intense emotional open book. Either way, emotions are sirens with job opportunities, cooing over to me like I was a jobless bum. So yes, I can feel them, just not in the same way that you do until I take them upon myself."

"Does checking auras or transmitting emotions hurt you in any way?" Doctor Banner asked slowly, removing his glasses.

"Getting a better look at how people feel doesn't hurt, but sometimes sadness and anger are painful if I take them away, depending on how vast the reserves for each are and how many people I'm taking them away from."

"So you can take emotions from multiple people? All at once?"

"Yes."

"Have you ever been overwhelmed by it?" The Doctor pursued.

I felt a tinge in my chest as a mental image of Louis's psychotic face bore down on me.

_Danger, danger, danger- come on! Answer. This is a bad topic, move on._

"…No."

"Interesting." Doctor Banner said as he peered at me with interest, hope illuminating his core. "Is it difficult for you- for you to, ah," He looked down, waving his hand in a circle, then looking up at me. "Give and take emotion?"

"Not really, I just—I kind of… huh. I haven't had to explain this in awhile— I forget how I explained it before." I looked down and rubbed the back of my head, flustered. "Your emotions call out to me and I, I kind of mentally give them permission to, ah-to… to flow into me. It's the same with my emotions: I allow them to go to another person. It's really very easy. Resisting the urge to take away emotion, on the other hand, is hard— especially when I'm depressed and someone nearby is extremely happy."

"Well you've done a really good job of doing so thus far. I understand that a friend of yours passed away, is she the person that you explained this to before?"

"Yes."

"What about your own emotions? Don't you ever feel like throwing them away? Yesterday you could have just given someone else your grief. You could have used it on Natasha when she was interrogating you. Why didn't you?" Stark inquired after his long, content silence.

_Hot water again, gotta get out. _Louis flashed in my mind again. _My lans, will he ever leave me alone?_

"Pass." I resolved.

"You can't pass." Stark deadpanned, completely serious. He leaned forward, looking at me straight while shaking his head and folding his hands.

"_Pass_." I said more firmly. It seemed that I surprised everyone with my sudden uncooperativeness.

"We'll get back to that later Tony." Steve, my hero of the day, came to the rescue.

"Fine. We'll take a break from the harder stuff for now, but we ARE going back to it." Stark said gloomily. "Steve, how about you start off round two?"

"Don't I get to ask questions?" I asked.

Stark just glanced at me then looked out the window, reclining in his chair and spinning—

_These are SWIVELS? _I thought excitedly. I quickly calmed down, not wanting to let Stark know that he just one-upped me in a sense.

"We'll have a second meeting for that." He said. "So Steve, round two? Starting?"

The Captain looked to the left in what might have been a glare, but I couldn't tell. He was slightly miffed.

"So… why don't you like your first name?" He asked, calming down and turning towards me.

"I don't like the sound of it. The spelling itself is pretty: M-E-R-C-Y, but I don't like the sound. I don't think I'm merciful anyway. Cain sounds better. That's why I prefer that you call me," I paused, addressing the next bit at Stark, who payed me no mind. "_Cain."_

"Your actions say otherwise." Steve said, looking at me seriously.

"When is your day of birth? I hear that such occasions are also ones to be celebrated on Midgard like on Asgard. I would like to make note of it for future festivities."

"Trying to ask woman about her age Thor? That's very rude." Stark joked.

I was finally starting to get him a little bit. Stark was definitely fickle, changing his attention to topics that interest him immediately once he is bored with others. He does what he wants. He can be serious though, which is good.

_Janna did say that extremely intelligent people compensate with such behavior…_I decided to test the waters and do something that I had never done with anyone other than Janna— joke back.

"Oh please Stark, don't act like you weren't interested."

He fake scoffed, smirking. "I never said that I wasn't, I just said that it's rude to ask."

_And so ends my brief joking response spree._

Stark seemed to wait for another response, but eventually turned his attention his way. He must have realized that that was all the playfulness that I have in me.

"I was born in January, the first day of the year. I'm twenty at the moment." I finally replied to Thor.

"Excellent. I shall remember." He responded vigorously.

More random questions were asked until Stark became bored once again.

"Round three begins now." He said, interrupting my story about how my former pet mouse once killed a cat and dragged it to Janna's doorstep. It was the darndest thing. "I have some things I need to ask and get across with less than an half an hour left to do so."

"I'm ready." I said, moving away from Doctor Banner, who I had been batting lightly on the arm while I told my strange tale. When I answered Stark's questions, it was like the others weren't there. None spoke, although they did certainly react.

Stark swiveled back to face me. "Do dead people have emotional auras?"

"No."

_Easy, quick answers—that's what he wants._

"Now, you are a mutant, and we're all good with that, but is the discrimination really as bad as the mutant groups make it out to be?" He had a particularly bright, large flare of amber envelop his form as he asked this. It took the shape of a bird this time.

_I've never seen a bird shaped aura before. _I thought before plummeting into the graveness of the question.

"My mother and father wanted to kill me because of it. A family that I stayed with burned because they sheltered me. My ex abused me because of it." I said, looking down and speaking in a low voice. Steve's aura showed worry and dismay. I didn't share Louis's story with him. "It's bad Stark. Real bad."

Sympathy arose from everyone. Thor made to move, but Stark shot him a glare that made him sit quietly.

"I'm sorry to hear that… You know, you did a really good job covering up that you were a mutant in Arestown. Were Miss Allsweet and your violent ex the only ones who knew?"

"Yes."

"And why did your ex not tell anyone about your dirty little secret if he was so opposed to you being a mutant?"

"He delighted in the fact that I couldn't do anything about him having that knowledge. Keeping it secret would prevent people from getting on his case for associating with some mutant scum. He wound up committing suicide."

"You've been through a lot. You were right to not trust us earlier, but now we're back to my other question: Why don't you thrust your negative emotions on other people?"

"That's selfish. They're mine in the first place. No one should have to deal with my emotional garbage on top of their own."

"Then why do you bother with ours? Why not ignore it?" He asked, wafting one arm and leaning on the other, resting his head on his hand.

"Because I _empathize_. I'm an empath, remember? My conscience won't let me _not_ meddle."

"All right, all right. Now, this one's going to be a bit of a stretch, but you'll have to bear with me. What would compel you to allow an oddly dressed man that just crash-landed onto the roof of an apartment complex to enter your home?"

"He would have had to have been in serious danger and an emotional wreck."

"Well, to get things straight—none of that here, ok?" He joked.

"Yes Stark."

"Did you know about the energy transfer before yesterday?"

"No, but that makes sense."

"Are you willing to learn more about your ability?"

"Seeing as I helped my friend's murderer without knowing that I was, yes."

"Are you willing to fight for the safety of others?"

"Yes."

"Would you be willing to protect those people even though they might hate you for it?"

"I protect some people from negativity on a daily basis."

He slammed his hands down on the table and stood up. "Then congratulations Mercy, you are officially a junior Avenger in training— Bruce, you and I need to sit down later with that. I have to go. Meeting adjourned."

"But what of my other questions?" Thor asked, his brows lowering slightly.

"Ask her on your own time. You guys are hungry, right? Finish up over breakfast. I have to go." Stark said, walking out of the room in full business attire topped off with some nice shades. "Later."

"Farewell Tony Stark." Thor called, fully aware that he was not heard.

"Are you alright Cain?" Steve asked.

"Yeah, I'm just tired and hungry— not much different from when I first walked in the room. Breakfast anyone?"

Everyone nodded their heads, thus beginning our trek towards the kitchen. With sofas to sit on and food in our stomachs, all of us were content to sit in the lounge together once finished. Well, us as in Dr. Banner, Steve, and me. Thor was shoveling food into his mouth and making noises of extreme pleasure towards the taste. It was almost funnily adorable in a disturbing sort of way.

"You're really hungry." I laughed, sitting next to Thor. Steve and Doctor Banner were seated to my right.

"'Tis good to have a large supply of energy La- er, Cain. You should try to make it a habit to eat more. I fear that if I might sneeze or tap you, you shall break."

"I survived the pats on the back that you've given me so far Thor. I'm fine."

"Steve?" Doctor Banner piped up. "It's eight o'clock. You'll miss the news."

"Ah! My program! Thank you." The captain reached excitedly for the TV remote, then handed it to Banner.

_He must not know how to work it._

"Wait, television?" I asked, getting worried. The TV and I… we're two forces that weren't meant to collide.

"Yes. It's Steve's way of… catching up and getting a feel for the world around him." Bruce answered. "Is there something wrong?"

"No." I lied as the TV flickered to life, showing a bored-looking anchorman.

"I enjoy the strange rectangle of spectacles." Thor spoke, the food in his mouth slightly muffling his words.

The hairs on the back of my neck stood up as the anchorman's voice first reached my ears.

"In other news, tonight is the Anti-Mutant Rally lead by William Stryker," The picture of an unhappy, older gentleman with a clean-shaven face appeared on the screen. "Gathering the growing sentiments of hostility towards mutants in one place. Mutant activists quietly protest…"

I stood up, happy to have an acceptable excuse to get out of the room.

"Cain, are you alright?" Steve asked, having noted the topic of the screen. The three men radiated sympathy and concern. Thor stopped eating and Doctor Banner lightly touched my arm- I'm assuming that that was his version of a pat.

"I'm just going to go back to my room for a bit." I said, heading towards the kitchen. "I had fun..."

"I'll take you back." Steve made to sit up, but I stopped him.

"I appreciate it Steve, but no thanks."

"Do you mind if I visit you in your chambers Lady Cain? I have questions that I would rather like to ask you." Thor inquired.

"That's alright Thor, just give me a bit of time ok?"

"Fear not Lady Cain, I shall wait until sufficient time has passed."

"Bye Cain." Steve smiled.

"Until later Lady Cain." Thor added cheerily.

"Bye." Bruce said quietly, nodding his head choppily in my direction.

"I'll see you all later." I smiled before I tucked around the corner. Randomly, my dream from the night before resurfaced in my mind…

There were more words.

_Those pathetic wretches can only protect you for so long._

**Hi. Done. Excited. Please review. Forgive typos. REaaaallly tired. Thanks for reading. The plot can begin to move a little faster now. Yay :D Yes, there will be Loki x OC in this, but I have to get to that. It's eventual (I'm trying to make this somewhat accurate and realistic. Thanks for reading.**


	11. Ch 9 A True Servant

Ch. 9 A True Servant

The area was extremely crowded, filled with hordes of excited Midgardians murmuring, causing a low rumble to rise up to my perch on the overlooking hill. Trees provided me with sufficient cover from potential S.H.I.E.L.D. surveillance.

_Perhaps this is the gathering of which Sigyn spoke? _I thought, narrowing my eyes in distaste. The smell of cheap Midgardian concessions reached my nose. _It had better be._

_She had certainly served her purpose. _I chuckled a little. _Were it not for her predictions, I wouldn't have even thought of coming here— Or at least, not immediately. Self-fulfilling prophecies are most interesting. Hopefully this venture shall be fruitful._

I began making my way towards the boisterous mass of humans, armor fading into my familiar Midgardian attire, complete with a coat and scarf. The crowd's raucous cries berated my ears as I gradually edged closer.

_How appalling and unorganized, _I thought as I seized a place towards the back. I imagined myself standing above them briefly— all of their fevered shouting directed towards the honoring of my presence. _All of the good that would come from my reign, from my sheer existence—they would finally realize their true identities and worship me knowing that I gave them that knowledge. _A small upturn of the mouth graced my features for a mere second then fell into a thin line. _But that is for later. Now it is time for the task at hand._

I scanned the area, trees flanking my back. To my sides were dark blue awnings sheltering deep-fried foods, fliers, signs, and merchandise from the threat of torrential downpour. In front of me was, of course, the Midgardian scum. Before them towered a stage made up of risers surrounded and a hyacinth cloth backing. Over top of the back wall the words, **'Down With Mutants! Support Stryker!,'** stood out in bold, black ink. Occupying the stage at the moment was a podium, three empty chairs, and two men.

One was speaking at the stand, yet he could not be heard due to the cacophony caused by the idiots before me.

Slightly interested in what the man had to say, I magically enhanced my hearing.

"today. As second-in command, it warms my heart to know that you all feel the same way, but enough from me— Here is _the _man himself, our voice, William Stryker!"

_Damn. _I glared at the man who was sitting down. _I had hoped to hear more. No matter, I'm not here to listen to them: I'm here to set an example._

The spectators around me weredistracted due to the man who had stepped up to the Midgardian voice-amplifying device, a hand moving over his graying slicked-back hair. He was wearing a suit, putting on his best face for the trash that he was addressing. In a loud, commanding voice he spoke, but I paid him no mind. _If only he knew how pitiful he looked... Tis the best time to commence._

Expanding my mental range, I reached to the thoughts of those who had gathered. Of course all assembled were Midgardian; however, whenever there is a public protest of sorts, the opposition shall be present— albeit quiet. My purpose was to find the so-called 'mutants' who had gathered.

Mind after mind I searched. Mental images splayed out before me, presenting the private thoughts and fantasies of the masses. It seemed as though only two emotions were in attendance.

Hatred- _a smiling, furry blue face spoke gently on a rectangle speaking of peace, its face twisting until a likeness of Mephisto had replaced the former visage._

Joy- _Those damn bastards are gonna pay. They'll wish that they had never been born. We'll see to that— with this many people against them; those mutants don't stand a chance._

My thoughts drifted to far away to where I had left the final phase of my plan. _I wonder how she would respond to this. _I smirked. _How would these trolls react to her?—_

_Monster. _I felt my eye twitch and a mild heat form along the bottom of my eyelid._ None of that._ I reprimanded myself angrily. I resumed my search, looking for something, _anything_, to color the monotony of the minds sprawled out before me.

_She would take away the pain, the madness, but then what? Would she kill Strykerson out of the contracted anger? Ah, but she would not strike anyone. _

_None here would notice her small kindness. The extra energy might stir a frenzy among them— perhaps they would kill themselves? But that shall never be. _I frowned, my brows furrowing in irritation. _Annoying woman, your capability taunts me at the most inconvenient of times._

I tore my thoughts away from the half-Vanir descendant empath, resuming my search for what I had come for.

_There!_

My mind filled the space in the air, smoothly flowing with the wind to a most interesting… conversation.

A man-boy, just a few years older than that of when he came of age was standing in the middle of the crowd. I could not see_ him_, but rather _his mind_. What attracted me to his thoughts was that there was more than one voice lurking inside, engaged in a most passionate clash of wills. Suppressing my mind's presence as much as I was capable, I listened in to the mental row.

_I can do this, stop worrying. _A stream of thought with a masculine edge surfaced.

_Otis, come back home NOW._ A feminine voice pushed. _This isn't the right thing to do._

_No Wendy, I'm not going to just sit back anymore! We don't have to take this._

_They're not doing anything to us—those people are innocent!_

_These people are far from innocent. They're at this hate club right? They might not have done anything yet, but they will Wendreth._

…_You're only going to cause more trouble. Just be patient, we can gain equality with silent protest, I just know it. Otis please—_

The maiden's voice was cut off in mid sentence. The boy had severed the communication ties.

… _Just keep watching the TV Wendy. It'll all be fine. I'll kill this bastard and we won't have to worry about him ever again._

_A telepath?_ I thought to myself._ This is much more than I had hoped for. I'm sure there are other mutants present, but this— this boy is perfect. He shall be most useful._

I raised an eyebrow, smirking and pretending to be paying attention to the leader of the rally. The boy was tense, his mind focusing on Stryker as he began to liberate his power from its mental shackles. Small pieces of gravel left their resting places, wobbling upwards to meet his mind's wishes. The few surrounding spectators were too wrapped up in Stryker's presence to notice.

I gradually pushed my mind closer than the limits I had placed upon it to eavesdrop on my little discovery and his Wendy friend. Otis's concentration broke and the specks of rock fell to his feet. His mind reeled in a million different directions as he registered my consciousness invading his own. Immediately he retaliated with a mental lashing. I merely had to imagine swatting it aside to deflect the invisible onslaught.

_I know you're there! I can feel you. I can see into everyone's mind here except for yours. _His thoughts called out to me silently.

_Oh? _I thought in reply, smirking. _Well that's nice to know. _Tracing my train of thought to the place where my consciousness rested, I checked to make sure he was facing away from me.

_Who the hell are you?_

Closing my eyes, I felt the rush of air as I teleported right behind Otis's form. In less than three seconds, I grabbed him, pinned his arms behind his back and covered his mouth. "I'm your superior, you ignorant boy. It would do you well to remember that." The rushing sensation returned as I brought him with me to my rally scouting location on the nearby knoll.

I felt a slight burn in the front of my forehead as the boy tried to surprise me into releasing him. Instead, I removed my hand from over his mouth and yanked back on his hands, kicking him to the ground as I did.

"Please," I said, annoyed at his attempt at defense. "As if such a petty attack could work on a god."

His orange and yellow flannel sweater was askew, revealing a white shirt. His dark blue eyes, almost purple in hue, looked up at me with a vicious fury. His hair was short and blonde, washing up into a short, spiky wave that rose above his forehead. A small 'soul patch,' as the humans call it, rested beneath his snarling lips.

"Oh yeah?" He huffed out, "Well HOW ABOUT THIS!" The cry was meant to startle, but having already peered into his mind, I prepared for attack. I began bobbing and weaving through an onslaught of earth that suddenly rose from the ground and flung itself at me as he swung his arm out.

_He's avoiding my attacks. I'm just going to have up the ante and not think about it— damn him. _He thought.

Otis's eyes were now unmistakably violet, pupils completely gone. He let out a battle cry as he charged at me, the scenery surrounding us swarming around him, a half sphere of organic weaponry. He punched the air quickly, each deliberate and powerful jab commanding the chunks of rock that whirred pat my ears. Calling upon my magic, I halted the jagged stones and teleported behind some nearby trees, conjuring a clone in my former place.

"_Hold still!"_ He angrily shouted at my copy as his jabbing picked up speed and a soft, lavender light began to gather into the center of his forehead.

_Full of surprises aren't we?_ _Let's see if he's as brilliant a telepath as he would have me believe. Prove yourself to me boy; show me the paramount of your potential. _I silently egged him on, observing his actions after I planted my ruse.

Otis's arms became a blur as he began to levitate above the ground. The lavender glow began to shine harshly and a light hissing sound began to permeate the air. My double rushed towards him, swiftly moving every which way that was necessary for him to avoid sustaining damage. From my perspective, the copy was the personification of grace. Faster than a hummingbird flaps its wings, it jumped up and struck the boy where the eye-piercing lilac glow emanated. As soon as its fist pounded against his forehead, a beam of lavender flashed out, disintegrating my clone.

"Serves you right bastard." Otis growled. He rubbed his arms as his body slowly lowered to the ground.

_Perhaps you are not as clever as I thought telepath. _I mentally shot at him as I transported behind him once again, my hand holding a formerly hidden dagger to his throat, the other grabbing an arm. I took a moment to appreciate the feel of the small weapon. It had been so long since I had wielded one. (One might think that I had used it against the Allsweet dunce, but I chose to use a spoon in that circumstance.) It had a small comfortable weight to it and my hands molded into the hilt nicely— _and the blade. _I closed my eyes briefly and breathed in, recalling the first time that I slew game with the sleek, deadly weapon.

"You were so focused on not thinking that you failed to keep my mind's presence in check. That which you slew was a mere duplicate of being—an empty shell." I said, returning to the present.

"Are you going to kill me now?" Otis asked, tense. His mind drifted to the festivities below, but only for a brief while. Thoughts of a blonde woman with a blue-violet eye color began to flood his mind. The images molded together to form a much larger picture—one that said 'Wendy.'

_A weakness. Good. I might need such leverage with this one._

"Not right now," I whispered, releasing his arms. I kept the knife in place. "However, I will not liberate you. There are some topics that you and I need to discuss."

He attempted to turn his head and face me. I only pressed the blade down harder against his next, drawing a thin line of blood.

"Like what?" He winced.

"A new era, an end to the tyranny—the rising of a_ god_. Tell me bastard son, why do you think that you are still alive?"

"I don't know." He answered.

I pressed the knife down harder, causing Otis to cry out. "_Think harder_."

"I… I-I," He paused for a few moments, allowing a silence to settle within the atmosphere. Faint cheers from below rose to meet us. I scowled at the sound.

"I'm a mutant." The telepath finally spoke up.

"Indeed you are Otis. That is the correct answer. You'd do well to answer more quickly the next time I question you."

_Question me? _He thought. _I'm going to be seeing more of him?_

"Oh yes, you shall," I smirked. I called forth two duplicates of myself to keep hold of the boy as I stepped back. Each grabbed on of his arms and held a knife to him— one resting against his cheek, the other against the open wound on his neck. When he was secure within their grasp, I folded my hands behind my back, walked in front of him, and opened my arms. "but before we get to that, I believe that it is proper to make introductions. State your name boy."

"But you know—"

"State your name, _mutant_." I spat as the left clone cut his cheek lightly.

"Otis Sito."

I chuckled lightly at how fast he answered. _With a little pain, anyone can learn fast._

"And, and who are you?" He sputtered. "Are you one of Magneto's men?"

I stepped lightly until I stood directly in front of Otis. "No." I uttered angrily. "I am Loki, son of Laufey. I was born a prince of Jotunheim and raised a future king of Asgard. I am of JOTUN blood and ASGARDIAN upbringing,_ boy_." I spat, narrowing my eyes. "I am a _god_. None of you mutant welps can affect me with your ability—You dare place the Master of Mischief among your petty comrades? I am your _life, _your_ savior, _your_ king._"

"King?"

"Oh yes. I was meant to rule this planet- I am sure of it. Fear not, I am no tyrant. I am the liberator. I am here to lead a lowly people to greatness via submission."

"If you are the ruler of earth, then how come I've never heard of you?" He asked, a bit of cockiness creeping into his voice. I grabbed his chin roughly and motioned for the clones to cut him again.

"Because I have yet to conquer it oh helpless one." I grinned as he cried out in pain. Releasing his chin, I turned my back on him and knitted my brows together. "The mighty 'Avengers' stand in my way. That is where you come in Otis." I spun on my heels. "I value you and your ability, so I going to make you an offer."

He merely stared at me.

_Like what?_

"Serve me Otis. Submit to me, become my servant of freedom. 'What am I willing to offer you in return' you think to yourself: A seat of power, privilege, protection from mortal scum. You are human Otis, but not entirely. You are the fortunate descendent of one whom once possessed a fragment of godly blood. You come from a line of both humans and Vanir, therefore you are superior to mere 'earthlings' as I suppose you like to be called." I paced to the left, forming a pitying expression. "You are superior, and yet you and your kind are treated as filth. I do not believe that particular circumstance is right at all. Mutant kind should stand with the mortals at their feet, begging for forgiveness. In my kingdom… perhaps I could make it as such?"

"You, you would- they… You would place mutants above other people? You would give us the power, placing us above them? No more oppression?"

"Why yes, I would." I smiled, voice dripping like honey. _Ah my silver tongue, how I have missed your use. _"So tell me Otis, does my offer please you? Servitude in exchange for justice?"

He smiled, excited at the thought, but quickly dropped the expression.

_Just be patient, we can gain equality with silent protest! _His sister's voice rang throughout his mind.

"And if I refuse your offer?" He asked slowly, staring at the ground.

_Blast sentimentality. _I scowled, looking down on him. "Then I scan your mind for every blissful memory that you have ever experienced, hunt down the you love people within each of them, kill them in the most torturous ways I can think of in front of you, saving your sister for last, and find someone else who will agree to assist me in the inevitable."

He began to sweat, horrified at the suggestion. I smiled, pleased with myself. Casually I dropped off, "Or you can agree. You, your sister— all of the mutants shall be free of the oppressors such as William Stryker. You shall live luxuriously under my rule, free to do with plain humans as you wish. You shall only have to answer to me."

There was a heavy silence; even the gathering down the hill did not make a sound. _How none of them were alerted to our presence, I am not sure. I was hoping for another opportunity to express my gratitude towards their weak surrender._ The boy looked up, blood dripping from his cheek and neck and staining his clothing.

"I'll do it." He said solemnly.

I smiled. "As I knew you would. Magic, be gone!" I waved my hand. Otis was released, a panting, blood-soaked mess.

"What now?" He asked. "May I kill Stryker?"

"No. I want you to remain here while _I_ kill him."

"What? That's—"

"You serve _me_ now whelp. I shall do as I please and you will remain unless I order you not to. I need to let these toads know that I hold the power. My foes must know that someone far too formidable for them to battle is at large. Stryker is my example. He is also a statement. I am sympathetic to you mutants. If I let you proceed with your plan, you would have not only been captured, but also would have spread more negativity towards your kin. They shall fear me, so my little power display shall be more effective."

_Damn, he has this all thought out. _Otis mused.

"What else would you expect from the god of mischief?" I held my hand up. "That explanation is for later. Because of your resistance, I have lost precious time. I depart. While you are alone, I suggest thinking of your half-Vanir fellows who may be interested— who may be _of use_ to me."

"Yes …my king." He answered, nodding his head.

"Kneel and place your hand over your heart when you address me." I scowled.

Otis dropped to one knee, gesturing as I had commanded. "Yes my king."

Power coursed through me in the form of shivering waves, rolling up and down my spine. I ran my hand over my slicked-back hair at the unusual sensation. _It's exhilarating to finally have a true servant— one that I obtained on my own. This is power._

"Very good, now if you'll excuse me," I released my mind-link, snapping my fingers and grabbing hold of my dagger. Air whistled past me as I teleported to the stage. The crowd gawped and pointed at me as I approached Stryker, who was still at the podium. He half-turned to look at me, faced forward, did a double-take, then froze. I merely smiled and said, "I have a man to kill," before neck flesh met cold steel.

**Finally done. I might post this later than twelve o'clock, but I got this done at twelve on the dot. **

**As much as I like the thought of Loki being under the influence of Thanos during The Avengers that has been going around tumblr, I'm still going to portray him as a broken mess. Honestly, I like the idea that he's been permanently damaged and stained with malice much better. Thanks for keeping with me. Sorry about the new OC's. Often when I read fanfics, I become annoyed when there are more than two (unless thorough character development has been pursued.) I'm not done with them either. There shall be more. I'm going to do my best to not make them annoying and hard to keep track of. Finally, the plot gears are beginning to pick up a little speed.**

**Hope you enjoyed this. :D Reviews appreciated~**


	12. Ch 10 Dissonance

Ch. 10 Dissonance

A deep orange beam of light poured out from the window to gather on the bed sheets. It was moderately far into the day, although the sky seemed as though it was ready to burst into evening.

Thor had yet to visit. My body seemed to tense every time I thought about it. What sort of questions would he ask? How would I answer? What do I do if he gets angry? I held up a shirt that Pepper gave me as I recalled Thor's eager expression and the light staccato dots of impatience that flecked his sing-songy aura.

_It will be fine._

Smiling, I folded up the top that Miss Potts had given me and placed on top of my completed pile. The feel of the strange fabrics against my skin was somehow soothing. I had tried on everything to make sure that I could indeed wear it all. It was frustrating because all of the clothing was so long, but at least they were modest.

_Today has certainly been interesting._

_Story time, breakfast, and television…_

I shook my head as I picked up a pair of slacks.

**Throb**

A dull ache began pulsating behind my eyes. I sighed and finished folding the pants.

"Really?" I asked myself, as if questioning the dull pain would make it disappear. Instead, the ache twinged harder. "Urgh." The pain began to steadily increase. My mind felt as if someone was beating against it like it was a jungle drum.

I slumped onto the bed. A popping sensation sent an agonizing blaze racing through my nerves. I clutched at my head, making sure that it was still in its place, not blown off by some sort of small bomb. Short images flickered in my mind.

_Headache…_

A large crowd stood before me. Then I was being attacked. There were rocks flying everywhere.

_Hurts…_

I curled in on myself, trying to center the pain and block surroundings out.

_Ugh._

Violet eyes.

_Stop._

A hunched-over back, covered in flannel knelt at my feet.

_What is this? My lans—stop!_

Another pounding sound joined the drum throbbing in my mind, albeit much softer. It felt disconnected and laced with excitement.

— An image of a knife flashed before my eyes.

"What s g-going on?" I sputtered. My skull felt as though it were splitting in half. "What's wrong with me?"

The light beat gradually grew louder as the pain grew more intense. I could have sworn that I felt someone's presence, but I honestly didn't care. A muffled baritone sang among the cacophony of the percussion in my mind. Anxiousness and fear surrounded me, but I'm sure that the emotions were my own.

This time, a loud bang sounded. An image of a terrified gentleman gazed wide-eyed at me. His eyes were quickly losing their vigor, glossing over dully; however, in the bleakness, I could see a reflection. It was of a man smirking, his eyes flitting about with uncontained mirth and pride. His eyes settled on the dead figure, and, giving a quick jerk, retrieved the knife from earlier. Varying shades of red were wiped from its surface onto the cadaver.

I shivered.

"Now do you understand your mistake?" The figure whispered. "What I want, I shall take— be it a life, or one's freedom. This was a warning _wench,_" He said, spitting the last word. "It would do you well to conform the next opportunity I bestow upon you. Until we meet next—"

"Cain!" The baritone swelled with a final blast as the percussion decrescendoed, but it was all so far away. The light eyes continued to stare as a strong sense of weariness overpowered my senses. The frightful scene collapsed as the comfort of sleep enveloped me in warm, welcoming arms.

**Reviews are most appreciated. If anyone is still reading this, your loyalty and interest is appreciated as well. This is, after all, written for your enjoyment. New chapter soon. I don't know how soon, but soon.**


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